


First Comes Love

by flashofthefuse



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:02:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashofthefuse/pseuds/flashofthefuse
Summary: Jack followed Phryne to England, but had to go home without her. As she travels home she becomes embroiled in a disturbing mystery and once again, calls on him to come after her.  If they use the time away from Melbourne to enjoy another reunion, who can blame them? And, how will their new personal relationship affect their professional one?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No real reason for this one, other than that I needed a distraction from work and real world events. This work contains some depictions of children in peril.

“I wish I could go with you,” She said, gripping his lapels tightly, the surging horde around them fading into the background.

“I wish I could stay,” he replied, his hands coming to rest on her hips.

“Are you sure you can’t?” She looked up, her eyes wide and innocent.

“Quite sure,” he said. “The commissioner was very clear about just how long my job will wait for me and I don’t want to lose it. I have it on good authority that I’m of more use to you as a detective.”

“That was before I knew how useful you could be elsewhere.”

His slight laugh turned to a sigh as he pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.

“God, I’m going to miss being with you like this. I miss you already,” he exclaimed.

“Well, if this is how it must be, I at least want a proper goodbye,” she said, and bumped her nose against his, nudging his head up until her lips met his. His hands slid around her waist to pull her close.

She wound her arms around his neck and clung to him desperately, both of them now completely oblivious to the fact that they stood in a crowd of people. It hardly mattered. They were far from the only couple engaged in a fervent farewell. Still, something in the back of her mind was aware of the singularity of the occasion. He’d never kiss her like this in public at home.

Home. Where he was headed and she couldn’t follow. Not yet anyway, but hopefully soon. Home. Where their burgeoning relationship was sure to be tested. Just how it all was to be navigated remained a mystery.

But she didn’t want to think about that now. She put it to the back of her mind and concentrated on the feel of his arms around her, the heat of his body, the taste of him on her tongue.

“I won’t be too far behind you,” she said, breathlessly when their lips parted. “I just need to make sure everything is in order. Financially speaking. A few weeks, Jack. Maybe a month, but not one day more. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises, Phryne. Stay as long as you need,” he said. “When you’re ready to come back, Melbourne will still be there. I’ll still be there.”

“And us?”

“Us,” he repeated. “That we will take as it comes, I think, but I can sincerely say that when I tell you I’ll be there, I mean that I’ll be waiting. And hoping. But I don’t expect anything and, as I said, want no promises.”

“But, Jack—”

“But nothing. You owe me nothing, Phryne. I came after you of my own accord. Emboldened by the knowledge you wanted me, of course, but I didn’t come to claim you and I certainly don’t want you feeling obligated to me. These weeks have been wonderful, but I won’t be an anchor around your neck.”

“You don’t weigh me down, Jack! When I made my request at that airfield—”

“It was more a challenge, I believe,” he interrupted.

“When I made my _request_ ,” she repeated, “I knew what I was asking.”

“I know you did, and it means the world to me. Don’t take any of this to mean that I find leaving you now easy, or want this to end. I don’t. These past weeks have been beyond anything I even dreamed they might be and I do hope it’s only the beginning, but I don’t see how it works if you begin to feel constrained by it.”

“What if I don’t feel constrained? Can you not even consider that I might want to hurry home to you?”

“In the heat of this moment, maybe,” he said. “If days from now you find you still do, by all means, hurry home! But that’s not the Phryne Fisher I know. I don’t doubt your feelings for me. I think I know how you feel, but you told me there was a whole world out there and so far you’ve seen very little of it this trip. It was clear you didn’t enjoy the flight over with your father, and I came along rather quickly and tied you to London, so I think that once you’ve dispensed with your duties, you should take some time for yourself. Travel. Have some adventures. As I said, I’ll be there when you return, and we will either pick up where we left off or start on a new path. Either way, you won't be easily rid of me.”

He was such a frustrating man sometimes. Here she was feeling all loving and sentimental. Ready to make desperate pledges to be true and hurry home to him, and he would insist on being pragmatic.

She had to admit he had a point. She’d left Melbourne with plans to see a bit of the world. Still, she’d not have given up a single day, not a single minute of the time she’d had with him this trip. In fact, she’d be perfectly happy with many more days with him.

“Are you counting yourself as one of the duties I’m to dispense with?” she asked.

“God, no! I’d rather hoped I’d been a pleasure, not a chore.”

“You were. You are. An immense pleasure that I’m not ready to part with.”

“Good. I’d hate to think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“Never.”

She tugged him down to her again, pouring all her love and longing into the kiss she pressed to his lips. A kiss that had to last far too long. When she pulled back, his eyes were shut tight and she could see the emotion wresting his features. The tight, pained draw of his mouth, the hard swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing like a cork on rough seas. She stroked her palm over his cheek, her heart swelling in her chest.

The great ship’s horn bellowed, breaking through their sentimental fog, and filling her with a sense of loss that nearly engulfed her. This was it, she knew. He’d waited as long to board as he could. She pulled him tight to her one last time and then stepped back, letting her hands fall to her sides.

“I’m so very glad you came after me, Jack Robinson,” she said, seeing his eyes fill and knowing hers did the same.

“This is even harder than that day in that airfield,” he admitted. “I hadn’t expected it to be.”

“I will come home.”

“I know. But that won’t stop me from missing you until the day you do.”

Or worrying about her. Being around her parents—her father especially—created an anxiety in her he never saw any other time. Somehow, his presence seemed to calm her. He hated to be leaving her behind to deal with the tangle that was her family’s finances alone. He wished he could stay. To support her through that and then maybe join her on her next adventure, but adventures were her purview. His path was the steady, more mundane one, though he wondered if he’d be satisfied with it anymore. _Once you’ve tasted flight,_ he thought to himself.

He bent to collect the case at his feet, and looked into her eyes one more time, cupping her cheek in his palm.

“Take good care of yourself, Phryne. I love you.”

She blinked and then huffed out an annoyed little laugh when he his thumb swept over her cheekbone to wipe away a traitorous tear. She opened her mouth, trying to speak over the swamping of her heart. She’d thought it many times lately. Even tried to say it aloud a few of those times, but then, as now, the words wouldn’t come.

“I know,” he said, quietly.

She sighed in relief at his understanding. He turned away, toward the gangplank.

She had a momentary, irrational thought that she might never see him again and it willed her frozen feet to step forward, her arm to reach out and grasp his hand. He stopped, turning back to her.

“I love you, Jack. Don’t ever doubt it.”

He nodded. His mouth turned up into the cheeky, crooked smirk she adored as he cocked his head to one side.

“Then come after me, Phryne Fisher.”

She waited until he was lost in the crowd on board before turning away. They’d already decided she wouldn’t hang around to actually watch the ship go. Waving to each other from a distance was not how they wanted to say goodbye. Still, she found she couldn’t leave yet and found a spot to sit keeping an eye on the ship and its preparations to depart. As the ropes were let loose and the giant craft pulled away to head to sea, she spotted a familiar silhouette standing on the deck, his hands gripping the rail, his eyes on her.

She pressed her hand to her lips, kissing her palm, and raising it in the air, smiling, and though a tear rolled unchecked down her cheek, she actually felt lighter, filled with a new, unexpected knowledge. She could be loved, and love in return, without feeling encumbered or diminished. Love didn’t have to be a burden.

After so long keeping it locked, she’d flung the door to her heart wide with three little words. _“Come after me.”_ And he had. With a dedication and determination that took her breath away. Whatever happened from here, she was well aware that there was no shutting that door ever again. She found she didn’t mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack glanced at the calendar hanging from the nail on the wall beside his desk, as he’d found himself doing far too frequently these last three months. She’d probably have been home long ago if he’d let her make the promise on the tip of her tongue as he’d left London. She’d been unexpectedly sentimental at his departure and he'd been little surprised by that, but then, love did strange things to people.

It had made him up and leave with barely a moments notice, and chase halfway around the world. He was pretty sure no one who knew him would’ve seen that coming. But, he couldn’t have done anything else. He loved her. With an intensity that would not be ignored.

And love had brought her to the edge of saying things he’d been afraid she’d come to regret. He’d steered her toward a safer path. Her return had to come when she was ready to return, not because she felt obliged to keep some promise made while under duress.

When he’d arrived in London they’d finally unbridled their affection and desire for each other, building a lovely little cocoon for themselves. They’d immersed themselves each other. In romance and love. And sex. Lots and lots of sex. It was an amazing and intoxicating time. It was also unsustainable.

In the real world they would not have the luxury of focusing only on each other. He likened it a bit to a honeymoon. He was old enough and experienced enough to know that back in their real lives it would be more difficult.

If it was to last, this thing between them needed to hold true without requiring any fundamental change to who they were as individuals. Compromises would need to be made. He thought they were both prepared for that, but if it had all begun with her making a promise she then felt obligated to keep—and she always kept her promises—they’d have started off on the wrong foot.

In the end she hadn’t decided to hurry home and was currently enjoying that wide world that called to her. As much as he missed her, he was convinced this was the correct path forward. The only path.

Besides, he’d meant what he said. He hadn’t followed her to claim her as his own. Twenty years ago he would have. If he were still a young man, without the baggage he now carried, his pursuit of her would have been with one aim. To bring her home and make her his wife.

Not anymore. Even before they’d come together romantically they’d had a relationship more fulfilling than any he’d ever known. Their bond was as unbreakable as could be imagined. What he’d sought in going after her was a deepening of that connection. An understanding and acknowledgment of what they were to each other, and, of course, the added physical element, because, let’s be honest, she drove him mad with desire.

He’d begun his pursuit of her long before he boarded that boat to England, and he’d begun it with the sure knowledge that what he was pursuing was not conventional.

When she asked him to follow her, he knew his wooing had been successful, but then she’d added that caveat about the whole world out there. Rather than making him doubt, he’d found it fitting.

Their bond was unbreakable, but flexible. As he often did, he’d turned to his poets to put it into perspective more eloquently.

_“Dull sublunary lovers' love_  
_(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit_  
_Absence, because it doth remove_  
_Those things which elemented it._

_But we by a love so much refined,_  
_That our selves know not what it is,_  
_Inter-assured of the mind,_  
_Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.”_

She would obliquely run. He would lean and harken after her, and—taking a bit of liberty with Donne’s words— _grow erect when she comes home_ , he thought wickedly.

Her letters and telegrams helped to make up for being unable to hold her in his arms. She was a damn good story teller and he could hear her voice in every line. She was enjoying herself, and that made him happy. If there were other men aiding in that enjoyment, she didn’t say, for which he was grateful. He’d rather not know. She was in touch regularly, telling him he was in her thoughts and that she missed him. That was enough.

Sometimes, it was almost more than enough, or at least more than he could bear. When her first letter had arrived at the station he’d mistakenly thought it safe to read at his desk. He really should have known better. After that, he learned to wait until he got home to open them. Having her words burning a hole in his pocket all day until he could read them in private was a special kind of torture.

But then, reading them at home was its own little mix of heaven and hell. Her words thrilled him but left him aching with emptiness for her. His bed too often became a place of agony as he vainly sought the release of sleep. How he craved her. He had a voracious appetite that couldn’t be sated with just her words on a page or the memory of her skin pressed to his, their bodies joined, heat rising. The closer the day came for her return, the more ravenous it grew, until the undisciplined behavior he practiced when alone, in his bed or bath, was a source of shame. Though not a big enough one to make him refrain.

He could hardly blame his libido for the betrayal. After the careful discipline required by years of abstinence, he’d let it loose. He’d barely set foot in merry old England before she had him alone, in a hotel room, both of them naked. From that moment on they’d had a hard time keeping their hands off each other.

The abrupt return to celibacy had been rough. To put it mildly.

But, it wasn’t just her physical presence he longed for. He missed her quick wit, and her humor, her everyday presence in his life. He missed the interruptions and the spark she brought to the often dull sameness.

Even so, he got on with it and most days were fine. He wasn’t desperately pining away, but every once in awhile it would hit him. Like the day he kept feeling as though he’d forgotten something and finally realized it was just the lack of her hand resting in the crook of his elbow. It was as though he’d left a limb behind somewhere.

But he wouldn’t wallow or allow himself to become morose. What was there to be morose about? She loved him and now she was on her way home. The color would soon enough return to his world. He picked up the paper to read the story again.

News of the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher’s return by solo flight to Australia had reached the ear of the media. Times were bleak and any scrap of excitement, any uplifting human interest story, was gobbled up by a dispirited public. She’d landed in Darwin yesterday, greeted by a throng of newspaper and radio reporters, as well as several dozen well-wishers. He’d breathed a huge sigh of relief when he’d heard the news of her arrival on the wireless. He hadn’t realized just how anxious he’d been while she’d been flying alone over open waters. He’d wanted more than anything to be among the admiring crowd, but perhaps it was better this way. He’d have found it hard to share her at that moment.

She’d called him from her hotel that night. The sound of her voice had stirred the blood in his veins. They didn’t talk long. She was exhausted from her travels and planned to make an early night of it.

This morning she would start off at dawn with the intent to fly close to eight hours. There would be a brief stop in Alice Springs to refuel before taking to the air again in hopes of reaching Adelaide before dark. Tomorrow, she should reach Melbourne.

He checked the time. She’d be approaching Alice Springs soon, if she was on schedule. He had no idea how he was suppose to get any work done these next two days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem excerpt is from A Valediction Forbidding Mourning by John Donne.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne's on her way home and musing over the course of her relationship with Jack culminating in his visit to her in London.

There were a few media types hanging around the airfield in Darwin to see her depart at the predawn hour, but most had moved on. Now that she was back in Australia the story was complete, which was a relief. She was in no mood for the attention. She was tired. Tired but excited. Despite her body’s complaints, she’d pulled herself willingly out of bed this morning, itching to be away.

Her reunion with Jack in London had been, among other things, illuminating. They’d been on the edge of something for so long, with both of them confused about exactly what they wanted and how to go about getting it. She’d had plenty of time now to think on the long and rocky path that had led to where they were today.

Very soon upon meeting him she’d felt the pull and it had been fun to enjoy the flirting and innuendo they engaged in. Jack was perhaps equal to her in his mastery of it. The way he looked at her! That slow triangular gaze. Focusing first on her eyes, glancing slowly from one to the other, and then down, as if magnetically drawn to her lips, before returning to lock onto her eyes once more. She knew the technique. Had used it herself often, but that didn’t stop her from feeling a sweet frisson each and every time she watched his eyes move over her face.

She’d always enjoyed the build up of arousal that led to sexual liaisons, she’d just never before had the patience or inclination to let it go on as long as it had with Jack.

Why she’d let it go on so long was complicated.

Early on, even though there was a clear attraction, he’d been quick to inform her of his marital status in a way that left little room to maneuver. He was a man that kept his word. She respected that.

Married men were off limits for her anyway, as a rule. It was true that there were some marriages that allowed for dalliances outside the bonds, but unless she was sure that both parties were of the same mind, it was out of the question. A man who didn’t place value in the vows he took, or stand behind the promises he made was not a man to be trusted or admired.

As she’d become better acquainted with Jack she saw what an asset he could be to her in her work. Despite his initial reluctance, he never really shut her out of a case and he wasn’t a stupid man. He saw the advantages she brought to an investigation and quietly began allowing her more leeway than she had expected after their initial encounter. If he’d forcefully opposed her, it wouldn’t have altered the way she went about her work, but it was so much nicer having him on her side.

By the time he was free from his marriage, she’d discovered that she sincerely cared for him, and his friendship had become too precious to risk. The sexual tension remained and at times nearly reached the boiling point, but it never spilled over. Sometimes they were impeded by a third party—Phryne had some hard feelings toward her Aunt Prudence on that score—but more often than not, they blocked their own progress.

There were fits and starts as they tried to find common ground, and plenty of frustration, but the biggest jolt to her senses had come when she saw, first hand, the other options available to Jack. She was torn. She wanted him to be happy, but if he decided that the other woman and the life she offered was what he needed, Phryne knew she would suffer a great loss.

She and Jack might have been able to continue their work together, but the close friendship would be over. The evenings of drink and conversation in her parlor, the emotional support they provided each other, and the intimacies they shared would end. Those things belonged to one’s chosen partner, and Jack would never disrespect the woman who held that position in his life.

Just when she'd feared all was lost, he’d come to her, turning away from his chance for a settled and more traditional life. That’s when the tide truly turned. That’s when he began wooing her with earnest confidence and patience. It was unlike anything she’d experienced and she began to fall hard. Little things he did moved her deeply. There was the gift of a pin that was worth little monetarily, but priceless to her; the bestowing of credentials, however temporary, that illustrated her value as a partner, and a dizzying turn on a deserted dance floor in the middle of an afternoon. All had left her reeling.

The final push off the cliff had come when she saw his car drive onto that airfield. She’d known immediately that he hadn’t come to try and stop her or offer his advice. He’d come only to do what he always did. Support her, wish her well and love her.

She’d challenged him to come after her. She knew that might not be possible, but she wanted him to know it would be welcome. She wanted him to know she wasn’t running from him. She still felt a strong call to adventure in the wider world, but she’d hoped he might be a part of that. His fears of another man coming along to take his place in her life were unfounded. It was unimaginable to her that any such man might exist.

She’d left that day with a hopeful heart. And, though she hadn’t really expected him to follow, she’d spent an inordinate amount of time hoping he might.

Then suddenly he was there. Disembarking from that ship and striding toward her in his usual smooth and self-assured manner. He’d stopped barely a foot from her, nodding slightly and uttering _“Miss Fisher,”_ in that way he had that was both formal and intimate at the same time, and it was as though they’d never been apart.

In the taxi on the way to the hotel, which she’d booked the moment she got word he was on his way, she kept glancing over at him in joyous disbelief that he could really be there. The fourth or fifth time he caught her looking, he’d laughed and grasped her hand, linking his fingers through hers. She’d slid along the seat and laid her head on his shoulder.

She was lost. Drowning in the feel of her hand in his, his familiar scent filling her senses. It was all starting out with great promise. There was a moment of panic when they reached the front desk and she realized she'd forgotten to warn him.

“Good afternoon, Miss Fisher,” the desk clerk said, “Will your fiancé be needing any assistance with his luggage?”

Without missing a beat, Jack had replied, “No thank you, that won’t be necessary. If we could just have our key, please.”

He’d laid his hand on the small of her back in the lift and she thought for a moment her knees might buckle leaving her a puddle on the floor. Then they were through the door to their suite, his case hit the floor and there was a flurry of lips and limbs. Clothing was rapidly removed. His hands moved over her as if trying to map every inch and the frenzied coupling that followed left them both breathless.

“Are you all right?” he asked, after. “Was that okay?”

“Couldn’t you tell?” she teased.

“I mean, it all happened rather swiftly and I never asked whether— well—whether you were prepared.”

“Jack. I was coming to meet the amazing man that traveled half way around the world to see me just because I asked him to. I was prepared.”

“Good. Good,” he said.

He rolled to his side and rested his hand on her stomach, moving it slowly up to cup her breast and circle her nipple with his thumb.

“Now that we’ve cleared that up,” he said, “I worry that this may have been more satisfying for me than you.” He replaced his hand with his mouth and she arched her back to allow him better access.

“You don’t hear me complaining, do you?” she hummed.

He moved lower, kissing the curve of each breast and lingering awhile in between them.

“But I feel I should apologize for a certain— lack of longevity on my part,” he mumbled.

She snorted, then worried her reaction had offended him until she felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin and he lifted his head to raise a cheeky eyebrow in her direction.  What a relief! She thought a sense of humor in bed was essential.

“I’m confident I can improve upon that at a later time, Miss Fisher,” he said, looking down his own body as if taking an assessment, “perhaps even sooner than I’d anticipated."

“Oh! That is good news!” she said. He continued on his way, dipping his tongue into her naval sending a shiver through her. 

“Until then,” he purred, “I’d like to make sure you’re taken care of. If you’ll let me.”

She reached down and ran her hand into his hair, putting slight pressure on his head to let him know she approved of his chosen path.

“As I said, Jack, I have no complaints about your previous efforts, but I certainly won’t dissuade you from any further attentions. By all means. Take care of me.”

After that very encouraging start, things had only improved and the weeks passed in a hazy blur. Far too soon she'd found herself standing dockside again. This time to say goodbye to a man she was now convinced she loved better than she’d ever loved anyone.

She’d watched the ship pull away convinced she’d be hurrying back to him as soon as she possibly could. But, it turned out that he had known her better than she had known herself. After the stress-filled task of settling her parent’s finances in a manner that protected her mother’s interests, with her father complaining all the way, she’d been wrung out. She’d needed to wander and have some time to herself. To become reacquainted with the intrepid and independent Phryne Fisher. To find her equilibrium again.

Heading off on her own had been delightfully freeing, but she couldn’t help thinking it might have been even more fun to have had Jack along. She would catch a glimpse of a broad-shouldered man in a long coat and hat and her heart would leap before her brain could inform her that it wasn’t him.

There were a couple of nights where she’d sought the company of others. Those nights didn’t turn out quite as she’d hope. They started promisingly enough, but later, she’d wonder if she’d truly felt a connection, or if she’d just been looking for a distraction. Not that there was anything wrong with the occasional, mutually agreed upon distraction, but it just wasn’t all that satisfying. She measured every encounter against her new standard and found them all lacking.

After awhile, she stopped trying. She still enjoyed meeting new people and even flirting with other men, but she was unable to connect the way she once had and to force anything would only be unsatisfying for her, and unfair to her partner. She simply missed Jack and what they shared. There were no two ways about it.

His pull kept growing stronger, until one day she woke up and just knew it was time to go home. She'd bought herself a new plane and made a plan that would have her back in Melbourne before the end of the month and she’d stuck to that plan like glue. Now, she was less than a day away and anxious to see not only Jack, but all of her friends. It had taken leaving it all to make her realize that she’d found herself a home.

As soon as the sun broke over the horizon this morning, lighting the sky, she’d taken off. As planned, she reached Adelaide before nightfall. Dusk was settling and she wanted nothing more than a bite to eat, a long bath and a comfortable mattress.

The hotel she chose was popular with well-to-do travelers but she was in no mood to encounter someone she knew. She avoided the restaurant off the lobby and found an out of the way cafeteria nearby where she was able to enjoy the simple, homey fare they provided in peace and anonymity.

Feeling full and exhausted, she headed back to the hotel, thinking she’d place a quick call to Jack. When they’d spoken the previous night she’d been using the house phone in the open lobby of her hotel in Darwin. She’d noticed the phone at tonight’s hotel was set off to the side in its own box, affording considerably more privacy. It got her thinking.

His voice in her ear always brought a warmth to her veins. Perhaps she could coax things along a bit. Steer the conversation in a direction that would help her on the way to a release that would improve her night’s sleep.

When she got him on the phone tonight she would tell him of how she longed to see him, touch him and taste him on her tongue. As she had in her letters, she’d vividly describe how she planned to strip him naked, press him into the mattress of her bed, straddling his hips and sliding over him until he begged her to let him inside. With his hands holding her firmly, or perhaps caressing her breasts—maybe she’d let him supply that part of the fantasy— she’d rise up and take him in, sinking down and seating him deep within her, filling her. Then, she’d ride him into oblivion, until they both found their escape, crying each other’s name. Her exhaustion lifted, and she took the steps up to the hotel door briskly.

“Excuse me. Miss?”

A slight woman stepped furtively from the shadows, calling to Phryne quietly. She clutched a twisted newspaper in her hand.

“You are Miss Fisher, aren’t you? The lady detective?”

Phryne paused, considered lying, but her image had graced too many publications of late.

“Yes,” she said, resigned. Her tone was weary and slightly aggrieved as she awaited the fawning adoration.

“Please, I need your help, Miss Fisher. I don’t know where to turn.”

The woman stepped closer, into the light. She was just a child. Eighteen or nineteen at most. Her eyes were large in her pixie-like face. Her hair was cut into a bob, clearly more for practicality than fashion. Her dress was worn and hung off her thin frame limply.

“You were at the diner,” Phryne said. The girl nodded. “You followed me?”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t speak to you there. We might have been overheard, and I don’t know who I can trust.” She glanced around nervously, and Phryne saw that she was shaking. Her thin dress no match for the cool night air.

“Please, come inside,” Phryne said, taking the girl’s arm and leading her through the doors into the lobby. “Tell me what has you so upset and how I can help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole story is an indulgence for me and this chapter was probably the most self-indulgent of all the chapters. Phryne's musings on her relationship with Jack are just my ideas of how things might have progressed in her mind. 
> 
> I hope the jumping from present day to flashback and then back to the present wasn't too confusing!


	4. Chapter 4

Jack rushed to work in the morning. He’d thought he might hear from her the previous night and had stayed up waiting for her call. It never came. She’d probably fallen asleep early after her long day flying, but he hoped she’d send word this morning to let him know what time to expect her today.

He’d arranged his schedule to have the next two days off. He planned to work diligently today to clear his desk of any lingering paperwork and then be free to be at her disposal. Perhaps that was presumptuous of him, but he was optimistic. If he was very lucky, nothing would come along today to delay him and he would even be able to meet her plane when it landed, bringing everything full circle.

As he hung his coat and hat on the rack inside his office door, he spied the telegram on the desk and smiled, hurrying to pluck it up.

 

**DELAYED. ADELAIDE. PLEASE COME. P.**

He called her home first, but they had little more information than he’d been given. At least they knew the name of her hotel. He telephoned to find her out and left word that he’d be on the overnight train, expected to arrive mid-morning.

The train was not even half full and he was able to convince an attendant to give him access to an empty sleeper compartment. He stripped down to his union suit and let the rocking of the train lull him to sleep, waking surprisingly refreshed the next morning. After a quick rinse and shave in the bath, and a rather decent breakfast in the dining car, the train pulled into the Adelaide Rail station.

He exited through the north eastern passage and stood on the sidewalk for a moment trying to decide what to do next. He assumed that any hotel Phryne had chosen would be outside of his budget. Perhaps he should seek out accommodations for himself, but part of him hoped she’d want him to stay with her, so he decided to make his way to her hotel first. He could always find a room for himself later. The important thing now was to find her and discover what had kept her in Adelaide.

“Detective Inspector Jack Robinson,” he said, flashing his badge to the front desk clerk of the Port Adelaide British Hotel. “I’m looking for one of your guests. Miss Phryne Fisher. She’s expecting me.”

“Yes, of course, Inspector Robinson. Would you like some help getting your bags to your room?”

“My room? I think there’s been some mistake. I haven’t reserved a room.” This was her doing, he was sure. He felt his face flush with heat.

“Miss Fisher made all the arrangements this morning, sir. You’re in room 204. I’m sure you’ll find it acceptable. It is adjacent to Miss Fisher’s suite,” the clerk said with a passive expression but a pointed look at Jack. “She left this for you as well,” he said, handing Jack at note, along with the room key.

Jack waved off the bellhop and carried his own bag up the flight of stairs to the second story. He passed a few other rooms and the shared bath on this way to the end of the hall. There was only one other room in close proximity to 204. Phryne’s he presumed. That room was located in the front corner of the hotel, most likely looking out over the street and appeared to be quite a bit larger than the one he would occupy.

He unlocked the door and stepped into a small room containing a full sized bed and wardrobe. He dropped his case on the floor, removed his hat and sat down on the bed to read her note.

 

**_Jack,_ **

**_I am so sorry I was unable to meet your train. I am under an urgent deadline to solve this case and couldn’t spare the time. I will meet you in our rooms in the late afternoon._ **

**_While you wait, you can use your formidable abilities in service to our investigation. (How exciting it is to say “our” investigation again!)_ **

**_I need you to find out all you can about a man called Phineas Potts and any charitable organizations he founded. Mostly I want to know whether or not he is the great philanthropist he is made out to be. I have my doubts._ **

**_It may prove difficult to find any information as I’m told Potts operates quietly because he doesn’t seek accolades for his good works, but if anyone can unearth some information, it is you, Jack._ **

**_I know I don’t have to tell you this, but do be discreet in your inquiries. I do not want to draw any suspicion that might compromise my cover._ **

**_The hotel knows me, as I’d already checked in under my real name, but should you happen upon me outside of the hotel, I am Fern Robins and we are not acquainted._ **

**_I know I’m not giving you much to go on, but my plan, as yet, is only half-formed and evolving by the minute. I have faith you’ll be able to keep up._ **

**_I am very glad you are here, my darling, and look forward to seeing you soon._ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_Phryne_ **

Jack found himself smiling as he read. She was so clearly in investigative mode. Her note was full of vague plans and instruction with some flattery thrown in for good measure. It also showed promising signs that her feelings for him hadn’t altered in their time apart. Her use of a term of endearment and the way she’d signed the note, not to mention the hotel room in close proximity to her own. He felt a bit like a schoolboy studying every word and action for signs of her continued affection. When had he become such a fool?

He reached the postscript and swallowed hard.

**_p.s - I’ve left the adjoining door unlocked should you wish to use the en suite in our rooms._ **

Jack looked up at the wall opposite his bed and noticed, for the first time, another door. He went to it, sliding back the bolt and pulling it open, revealing a second door behind it. He tentatively tried the knob. The inner door swung open into another, larger and more opulent room. The scent of French perfume hit his nostrils and he closed his eyes, his body reacting instantly to the familiar fragrance.

She’d been here. She was here. All around him, as he stepped into the room. There were articles of clothing haphazardly scattered around the room. Her lace up leather boots, the ones she wore when flying, were tumbled on the floor beside the desk.

Another door led into a bedroom. The bed, larger than the one in his room, was not yet made up by housekeeping. The sheets were rumpled, the coverings kicked to one side. He ran his hand over the indent in the pillow where she’d rested her head, and plucked the negligee from where hung from the bedpost. He had a feeling she’d known he would come in here after receiving her note and had left the garment hanging there for him to find. To torment him.

He let the smooth silk slip through his hands, bringing it to his cheek to feel the cool slide of the fabric against his skin. It smelled of her. His mouth watered and his heart rate accelerated alarmingly.

He dropped it on the bed and moved swiftly back to his own room, closing the door behind him to keep that other room from distracting him. He spent a few minutes deciding where to begin with the task she’d set him to. She’d been maddeningly vague. He didn’t even know the mission of this alleged charitable organization. He decided to start by searching public records for the man she’d mentioned and if that failed he could contact a friend on the local force.

In Jack’s experience, wealthy philanthropists, however much they claimed they wanted anonymity, desired some form of recognition, at least among their peers. His friend was high enough on the force to be a part of the upper echelon that moved in politer society and would likely know of all the wealthy men in town at least by name. Bernie was a good man and Jack trusted him to be discreet and not ask too many questions.

He still had no idea what he was walking into but he hoped to find something valuable to her. He didn’t want to let her down. Besides, the sooner they sorted out whatever was happening here, the sooner they could get back to these rooms and that bed next door.

* * *

 

His inquiries proved fruitless and he was beginning to think this man Potts didn’t exist. Nothing turned up in his search of public records and Bernie had never heard of the man. He had also begun to wonder why Phryne had called him here. The kind of investigating he was doing could have been conducted over the phone from Melbourne. It wasn’t necessary for him to have come all the way to Adelaide. Either there was more to this, or she’d just been impatient to see him. He hoped for the latter.

It was two o’clock in the afternoon and he’d had nothing to eat since the train. On the way back to the hotel he passed a small cafeteria and decided to stop in for a bite. It was probably too soon for Phryne to have returned to their rooms anyway.

He was just through the door when he heard it. He’d know that laugh anywhere by the way it made his stomach lurch. It was just like the swooping feeling he got from the highest drop on the Great Scenic Railway at Luna Park. Another sensation he associated with her.

She was turned away from him and wore a false braid down her back, a rather tired looking floral cotton dress, and sensible shoes. He could see the apron strings that informed him her cover was as a waitress for this establishment.

He couldn’t believe he’d stumbled on to her and knew he had a big, rather stupid grin on his face. He rearranged it into a neutral expression. He wasn’t suppose to know her and if he blew her cover she’d never forgive him.

Phryne bent closer to her customer and laughed again, patting the man on the shoulder congenially. She straightened, one hand coming behind her to rest at the small of her back as she arched slightly. She turned and froze to the spot when she saw Jack. He saw her eyes light up and she bit her lip in an attempt to hide her smile.

He stood rooted to the spot fighting the impulse to rush to her. His eyes dropped to her belly and his joy changed to one of shock, confusion and uncertainty.

Her hand flew to the swelling below her breasts, splaying over the enlarged abdominal region. She shook her head slightly. Then moved across the floor quickly, coming to stand before him.

“Can I ‘elp you, sir? We’re quite full up at the minute, but there’s a spot at the counter if you’d like,” she said, her accent far more common than usual.

“Phry..., I,” Jack stammered, as he tired desperately to keep up with her. “Uh, the counter is fine, miss. Thank you.”

“Just take a seat and I’ll be with you in a mo,” she said cheerily.

He walked in a daze to the counter. Within a minute, she was on the other side, her notepad in hand, pencil poised above it.

“What can I get you, luv,” she asked briskly, he just stared at her, unable to form a coherent thought, his eyes kept drifting to the bump under her apron. It was very pronounced.

“We got fresh cottage pie baked just this mornin’,” she said, coming to his rescue. “You look like a cottage pie man to me. Can I get you some?”

“That’ll be fine.”

“And a nice cuppa?”

“Sure.”

She left and returned quickly setting a plate before him and pouring out a cup of tea, chatting amiably.

“My name’s Fern.”

“Uh, Jack,” he replied, dumbly.

“I’m new here. You a regular, Jack?”

“No. I’m just in town on business and was looking for a bite to eat.”

“Just wandered in by chance then, did ya? Well, you’ve made a good choice. The food here is real good. That’s why were so busy! Been run off my feet all morning and me shift don’t end til 4:30. Not that I’m complainin’ mind ya. The money’s good.”

“Is that so,” he said. He wished he could come up with some way to ask her what on earth was going on, but all he could manage at the moment was small talk, and he wasn’t even doing very well at that. Luckily she was quicker on her feet. Clearly, she was unable to talk to him now and he’d have to wait until she finished her shift. At least he now knew exactly when that was.

“Enjoy your meal,” she said, leaving him to his jumbled thoughts.

Whether the pie was as good as she’d promised he couldn’t tell. It tasted like sawdust to him. He ate what he could, pushing the rest around the plate until he’d spent a realistic amount of time at the counter, paid his bill, and with one last look at her, left the building.

Jack stumbled out onto the sidewalk, heading no direction in particular, his mind going a mile a minute.

Phryne was with child. How was that possible? Well, he knew how it was possible, but why hadn’t she told him?

He did the math in this head. He’d been back in Melbourne just over three months. They’d spent nearly six weeks together in England, doing all manner of things that would explain her current situation. Factor in his travel time back home and—no—she looked too far along. Eight months, maybe even nine.

He sat down heavily on a bench and dropped his head into his hands.

It wasn’t his child. It couldn’t possibly be his child. He tried to think back to eight or nine months previous. What had been happening? Who was she with? Honestly, it could be anyone. He sometimes knew when she’d taken a lover, but he didn’t kid himself that he was always aware. She was discreet, and quite often it was a one time only event.

Why hadn’t she told him? To discover it in a place where he couldn't talk to her, where she wasn’t even herself. And what about that? Why in the world had she taken a case at a time like this? It was insane! For a moment, a righteous anger bubbled up inside him, but was quickly tamped down.

She hadn’t intended for him to find out this way. He’d come upon her unexpectedly. And she must have her reasons for keeping it from him and for taking this case. Whatever it was, it must be important. He’d wait to hear her out before jumping to conclusions. Besides, the issues she was facing were far larger than anything falling upon him.

A single woman with child. Even social standing did not protect a woman from scorn in that situation.

He wondered vaguely why she hadn’t done anything about it while she could. She was wealthy, she knew people, and in London he was sure there must have been plenty of reputable doctors one could turn to. Maybe she’d discovered it too late.

There was always the option of giving up the child, but if that were her plan she’d have just stayed away until after the birth. Could it be she wanted the child to raise as her own?

If that were the case, what did that mean for them? Phryne had always been unconventional and unconcerned about what society thought of her. He loved that about her and if he could, he’d live the same way, but he had restrictions on him that she didn’t.

He had a position that required a certain adherence to moral standards. It was one thing to stretch the boundaries by having a discreet affair with a consenting single woman, but an unwed mother? Would Russell Street still look the other way? And how would he feel watching her raise another man’s child? Did she know who the father was? Would the man want a role in the child’s life? He had so many questions.

Had she called him here to warn him before her return to Melbourne and get his reaction? All evidence suggested she still wanted a relationship with him, her letters, the hotel. But, what did he want?

If they remained together, there were many that would assume the child was his. _I don't necessarily mind that_ , he thought with some surprise. In fact, he almost wished it were his child. It might make things simpler.

Except for the fact that he didn’t want children. Not anymore. He was older. Set in his ways. He’d imagined a life with Phryne that was less encumbered.

A child required daily attention and constant responsibility. With a child would come a lifetime of commitment. If she also came with that, if that’s what it meant to have her, would he want it then?

He checked his watch. There was still more than an hour before her shift ended. He wished he had something to do to distract him, but he’d done all he could in pursuit of the information she wanted. With his limited knowledge of her case he had no idea where to look next. There was nothing to be done now but wait for her. He walked slowly in the direction of the hotel trying to imagine what he would say to her when she got back.

This was not the reunion he’d been imagining. He’d been waiting what felt like an eternity to see her again. To hold her again. He’d been envisioning something similar to his arrival in London when they’d spent the better part of his first two days there in bed. But, was that all he wanted? Her body?

No. Not remotely. She was so much more to him than just a lover. She was the woman he wanted above all others. In his life, in his work, and in his bed, but, truth be told, if he never touched her intimately again it wouldn’t really alter how he felt about her. She was an integral part of him now. In every way. He didn’t want to be without her anymore.

The timing of this couldn’t have been worse! They’d been about to figure out how they worked back in the real world, it’s not like they needed any additional complications, and as complications went, this was not a small one.

But, was it an insurmountable one?

They were partners. Even without wedding bands he felt that meant for better or worse. If that now meant partners in raising a child, then that’s just the way it would have to be. If she felt the same way, that is.

Was it really as easy as that? Could he accept a child that was not his? A little Phryne Fisher. God help us all! He actually laughed out loud at the thought. The child was not his, but it was hers, and he loved her more than anything. He would love her child as well, he was sure of it.

He wondered if he could convince her to marry him. To give the child a legitimacy that would set it up in an easier place in life. Even her money and her title wouldn’t erase the stigma of being born a bastard, as ridiculous and unfair as that was, seeing as the circumstance of birth was not one in the child’s control.

He hoped they’d marry, but whatever she decided, he knew he’d stand by her. And her child. If she’d let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't have time to get another chapter up before the weekend due to the Thanksgiving holiday. I rushed to get this one up today and apologize for any mistakes. Sorry to leave on a bit of a cliff hanger! I do plan to get the next chapter up on Saturday.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is embarrassed.

Phryne left the apron hanging in the kitchen at the end of her shift. She tucked her braid under her floppy hat and wrapped herself up in her long canvas duster. It hid the bump well enough to get her through the hotel lobby without notice. It had been a successful afternoon, case-wise and she was looking forward to filling Jack in on the details and finding out what he’d learned.

She gave the bump a pat, chuckling a little to herself. She really shouldn’t find it so funny. He’d gone quite white at the sight, but he’d rallied quickly and appeared to have caught on to her charade. Not surprising. They were usually in sync and communicated well without words. But, poor Jack. What she put that man through!

She found him waiting in the sitting room of their suite. He stood as soon as she entered. He was in shirtsleeves, and his hair looked as though he’d been running his hands through it. Why such small things should make her heart flutter, she’d never understand. There was a lot about the way he made her feel that she still didn’t entirely understand. All she knew right now was that he was too far away.

Jack caught Phryne as she flung herself into his arms and pulled her close. The taste of her on his lips was missing the vanilla of her usual lipstick, but still contained the unique flavor that was her’s alone. He deepened the kiss, trying to fill the emptiness he’d had inside him for months now.

It felt wonderfully familiar, but for the new addition. That registered as strange, for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that it felt softer than he’d imagined, but then he’d never held a woman so big with child in his arms before. He didn’t really know what it should feel like.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, Jack Robinson,” she said, when their lips finally parted. “I couldn’t believe it when you walked into that diner! It was all I could do not to throw myself at you then.” She stepped back, briskly removing her coat and hat. “Now, I suppose I have some explaining to do.”

“Listen,” he said. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe me anything. I do wish you’d warned me, but now that I know, I hope you’ll let me help you. In whatever way I can. I love you, Phryne and I want to be part of your life, and your child’s life, if you’ll let me.”

After a uncomfortably long pause in which she looked absolutely gobsmacked, she let out a harsh, barking laugh.

“Oh, Jack. I don’t know what to say. I’m astonished. By so many things. Not the least of which is that it apparently took you all of two hours to decide you’d accept me with another man’s child in my womb. I assume you’d at least come to the conclusion that it couldn’t be yours, didn’t you? Given how far along I appear.”

Her laughter confused him, but his brain managed to latch on to one word.

“Appear?”

“It’s not real, Jack! Good grief! I thought you’d understood that! I told you I was undercover. It’s for the case. Do you think I’d keep something like this from you?” She looked down and grabbed the bump with both hands giving it a shake.

“You’re not—”

“Pregnant? Of course not!” She began unbuttoning the loose dress and pulled it open to reveal a rounded pillow strapped to her stomach. She reached around her back to release the straps and pulled the pillow free, tossing it onto a chair. “I can’t believe this. How on earth did you imagine I could fly halfway around the world like that? Why, I’d barely have fit in the cockpit!”

What an imbecile he was. Of course she wasn’t pregnant. He felt rocked by a rush of mixed emotions. Acute embarrassment, relief, but also—he had to admit it was there—a tiny prick of disappointment.

“I—I’m so sorry—I...”

“Come here,” she took his hand and led him to the couch. “Sit down before you fall down, and let me explain.”

They sat on the couch side by side. She pulled his hand into her lap, stroking it soothingly.

“That must have been quite a shock. Are you feeling better now?” she asked.

“I think mortification is the prevailing feeling,” he said, blankly. “I’m an idiot.” What had made him so quick to believe this despite all evidence to the contrary? It was preposterous now that he thought about it.

“I am surprised, Jack. You’re usually a little quicker on the uptake. I’m sorry to have put you through that. I never imagined you’d think it true.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for. This was all my fault.”

“Me. With a baby. Imagine!”

“Yes, the thought of another Phryne Fisher running loose in the world did give me pause. The havoc such a child might wreak is unfathomable,” he said. He’d tried for a light and humorous tone but it had fallen a bit flat.

His joke was an attempt to brush past his embarrassment and she let it go. She was glad to brush past it too. She wasn’t sure what to make of his rapid acceptance of an apparently very serious situation. An alliance with her under those circumstances would irreparably harm his career, for one thing. There were almost too many ramifications to contemplate. His loyalty to her hinted at a level of commitment that was staggering.

She didn’t have time to think about this now. They had a case, and she’d set things in motion that couldn’t be stopped.

“Well, we needn’t worry about any of that. I’m not pregnant and don’t intend ever to be,” she said, hoping to put an end to the whole conversation and move on. “I think I’d better fill you in on our case, Jack.”

She began with her encounter outside the hotel with the young girl. As she spoke, she discarded her Fern persona, removing the false braid from her hair and shedding the shabby dress. It dropped to the floor and she stepped out of it, kicking it into a little ball at her feet.

Jack reached down to pick up the dress from the floor, shook it out and hung it over the arm of the couch. When she padded barefoot into the bedroom he gathered up her cast off stockings, laid them over the dress and settled Fern’s sensible shoes side by side on the floor.

Phryne emerged a moment later wrapped in a lovely dressing gown he’d never seen before. Something she must have picked it up in her travels, he supposed. It was the same shade of deep purple as the negligee that had hung from her bedpost. The contrast with her ivory skin was striking.

“A woman approached Lucy and told her she represented a group that helped unwed mothers,” she explained. “She said they would assist straight through to the birth. All care was free of charge. A wealthy man—this Phineas Potts I had you chasing—provided all funding. Lucy gratefully accepted the help only to find herself pressured to give up her child. She refused. The child’s father is currently away working on the railway lines in Brisbane, but when he returns they plan to marry.

"When the time came to give birth, she was brought to a small, private home. The woman she’d met was there along with another woman in a nurse’s uniform. Everything seemed to go well, but the baby was swept out of the room immediately after being born. The nurse returned without the baby and Lucy was told her baby girl had been stillborn. She is convinced her child is still alive and wants me to find the babe.”

“She could just be a grieving mother,” Jack said.

“She swears she heard the baby cry. She was drugged for the delivery, but said she never lost consciousness. I believe her Jack, and after doing a little digging I’m convinced this charity organization is fishy. Something is not right here.”

“I’m inclined to agree with that, at least. I couldn’t find any evidence that Potts even exists. There is no public record of Phineas Potts. No mention in the papers that I could find, and my source in the police has never even heard of the man. Are you sure you have the correct name?”

“Quite sure, after today.”

“What happened today?”

“Well, as you discovered, I’ve set myself up as an unwed mother in need. Lucy told me the woman that approached her has lunch at the cafeteria nearly every day. When a woman fitting the description entered, I made a point to complain loudly about my predicament.”

“Did it work?”

“Like a charm. Before she left, she approached me with the story of this organization and gave me a card. I’m to stop tomorrow at the address she provided to discuss ways they can help me.”

“And, me? What else to you want me to do? What is my role?”

“Well,” she hesitated and he got the impression she didn’t have a firm plan for him. It should have irritated him, seeing as he’d dragged all the way to Adelaide and so far had done nothing but embarrass himself and conduct work he could have done from home, but he was anything but irritated.

“You can be my lover—or, rather, you’re Fern’s lover—and my lover as well,” she babbled. “You could resurrect Archie Jones!”

“So, then, I’m—or, Archie rather, is—” He pointed at her stomach, now its normal size.

“No, not the father. I’ve said I’m running from an abusive boyfriend. You will have to be someone new. We’ll come up with a story. How about we say that Archie is the man I’ve fallen in love with and we’re running away together. Perhaps you have a job lined up somewhere else. England, would work. We’ll say we plan to set sail as soon as the child is born. I could express my concerns to my new friend that Archie might come to regret taking on another man’s child and open the door for the suggestion I should give up the baby.”

He smiled as she spun this elaborate backstory on a moment’s notice. His role still seemed unnecessary. She didn’t really need to produce a lover if she’d already invented an abusive boyfriend to run from.

“All right. I can do that,” he said, “But—I still don’t see why you needed me here.”

“You just want me to say it, don’t you?” she complained, her hands firmly on her hips, her expression a mix of stubborn annoyance and amusement.

“I might,” he admitted.

“Fine, Jack. I don’t need you here for this. I want you here. Will that do?”

“Definitely,” he said, reaching a hand out to her. She took it and let him pull her onto his lap. He slipped his arms around her waist. This was more like it. Holding her, the familiar weight on his lap and the warmth of her skin through the thin, satiny dressing gown. She looped her arms around his neck.

“You’re not completely superfluous to the case, you know,” she insisted. “I will need you to arrest the guilty party when the time comes. We need to move quickly if we hope to find Lucy’s baby. I don’t have the time to convince the local constabulary to follow my lead.”

“And since you already have me by the nose...”

“It’s a lovely nose,” She gently kissed the tip of it. “Attached to a lovely face that I’m so very happy to see.” Her hands slipped the tie out from under his waistcoat and began unknotting it. “But, I’m getting rather impatient to see the rest of you, Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten behind on replying to comments! I have to say you are all so much smarter than Jack! Not that I was surprised by that. Jack really was being incredibly dense. Thank you all for the lovely comments. Reading them makes my day!


	6. Chapter 6

“That was—” she paused to catch her breath, reaching beside her to drop her open palm on his stomach. It rose and fell with his own labored breathing. “That was—well, let’s just say that I’ve been very much looking forward to this and you did not disappoint.”

“Imagine my relief, Miss Fisher.”

He rolled to his side, reaching for her and pulling her to him, feeling a small spark of arousal reigniting.

“God, I’ve missed you, Phryne,” he growled, teasing his tongue along that sensitive spot on her neck.

“I missed you, too,” she said, running a hand down his back and gripping his bottom, “And this. I missed this very much.”

“My arse?”

“Well, it is very nice, Inspector, but I meant what we just did.”

He rolled her onto her back, climbing on top of her and pressing his pelvis tight to hers the small spark roaring into a blazing fire.

“Would you like to do it again?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, darling,” she purred.

“Give me minute, love. I’m sure I can accommodate.”

 

* * *

 

Jack leaned back in the large bath with Phryne between his knees, her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, his large hands resting on her stomach.

The water distorted the view, and for a moment Phryne imagined a different scene. One that might have been, had his earlier assumptions been correct. She couldn’t help remembering the earnest look in his eyes as he’d told her he loved her and wanted to be a part of her life, no matter what. She shivered.

“Are you cold? Shall we get out?” he asked.

“Not yet.” She covered his hand with hers and brought it up, guiding it to her breast. He took the hint, caressing her and dipping his head to nuzzle at her neck.

The fragrant, warm bath water and the feel of her in his arms had been wonderfully relaxing. Jack had nearly drifted off to sleep, but now her shifting body, pressing back against him, had his mood changing.

“I’m getting spoiled traveling with you,” he said.

“It is a nice hotel,” she replied.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, happily made aware of his increased state of arousal. She turned her head, searching for his mouth. Their lips met in a sloppy, urgent kiss. His hand came up to caress her cheek, his eyes dark and deep enough for her to fall endlessly into. He licked his lips, swallowing hard.

“Phryne,” he said. “Earlier today. My, er, misunderstanding. I want to apologize for that.”

She turned her back to him again, her body tensing.

“Apologize? Why? It was a rather silly mistake, Jack, but I thought you were sweet, and it’s done now.”

“You didn’t find it patronizing?”

“Why should I have found it patronizing?”

“I just thought you might not have appreciated an offer to swoop in and rescue you.”

“Is that what you were doing? I only heard you say you loved me and wanted to help me. And, like I said, it was sweet.” She planned to end it there but for some reason couldn't stop her mouth. “But Jack, I’m not sure you’d really thought it through. If the circumstances had been as they appeared, it wouldn’t be easy, you know. There are some things society will not allow. Especially of a man in a job such as yours.”

“You mean I’d likely lose my position. Yes, I know that. Unless we were to have married,” he said, casually.

She pushed away from him, turning so she could see him.

“Is that what you were thinking? That we’d marry?”

He didn’t like the look on her face. He probably shouldn’t have brought this up again.

“I was only thinking that if you were in trouble I wanted to help. I’d never abandon you, Phryne,” he went on in spite of his better judgement, “I would have offered marriage as a solution, but even if you wouldn’t accept that, I’d still have hoped to remain in your life.”

“And the child’s life?”

“Of course.”

“Do you want children? Because I don’t, Jack. I’ve never wanted to have a child of my own.”

“This isn’t a conversation we need have. I just wanted to apologize for my misunderstanding.”

“But, I’d like to know. Please, answer the question.”

“Do I want to have children?” he said, as though he was asking himself as much as answering her. “At one time, I did. Very much. If it had happened for me then, I’d have more than welcomed it, but now? Things are different now.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a yes or a no, Jack.”

He hesitated, running his hands up over his face. He had a bad feeling about this, but he wasn’t about to start lying to her.

“Well, it’s not that simple, is it? We’re being careful, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility. Should it happen, we’d have to deal with it. The thought of your child, or our child—something we created together—isn’t wholly unappealing to me.”

If he thought she’d looked slightly horrified before, he wasn’t sure what to make of her expression now.

“You asked the question, Phryne! I’m just trying to be honest.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” she said stiffly, rising from the tub and reaching for a towel.

He stood and helped her step from the bath, then stepped out himself, grabbing a towel and rubbing it briskly over his head before wrapping it around his hips. By the time he’d completed this short task, she’d walked from the bath.

“Phryne?”

She was already through to her room. He followed.

“We should get dressed for dinner,” she said.

“What’s the matter? Are you upset?”

“No.”

“You are,” he said. “You’re upset about what I said regarding children, aren’t you? I told you, this isn’t anything I want to pursue. I’m just saying that should it happen, I’d be open to it, if it’s what you wanted too.”

“But it’s not what I want and I fear you’re envisioning a life I have no interest in. That concerns me,” she said crisply and dispassionately.

It was a tone he imagined she’d adopted often in the past, with other men that had overstepped their bounds. He’d heard it himself once before. When he’d confessed his feelings for her the first time.

“This isn’t fair, Phryne,” he said, his voice steely and simmering with anger. “You asked me a question and I answered it truthfully. Don’t penalize me for that.”

“How am I penalizing you?”

“I know that tone. What I don’t know is why you’re still using it with me.”

“What tone is that?”

“Your _‘I am who I am and I can’t change’_ tone.”

“I _am_ who I am, Jack! Whatever the tone!”

“I know that and I love you—for who you are—I’ve never asked you to change.”

“You spoke of little Phryne Fishers and marriage!”

“It was hypothetical!”

“Hypothetical or not, it’s a life I don’t want. A life I’ve never wanted. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, Jack. I am who I am. Nothing has changed!”

“Everything has changed! If you don’t know that, I don’t know why am I here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me that you loved me.”

“I do love you!”

“If you love me, if we are partners, then I shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells and watch my every word for fear I might make you run. I shouldn’t have to worry that every time I express a vague wish or desire that doesn’t coincide with your own, you’ll turn a cold shoulder.

“All I did was answer you honestly. Nothing more. There’s no need for you to worry. I know where you stand regarding marriage to me.”

“Not just to you, Jack! To anyone!”

“You’ve made that very clear, and I knew that when I chose to be with you. But, there was a time when marriage and family _were_ a dream of mine. And you knew _that_. So, if once in awhile, I indulge in a fantasy, or make a comment resembling a more traditional life, that doesn’t mean I’m trying to change the terms of this.”

“The terms?” She said, affronted.

“Yes. The terms. Which I sometimes feel have been set by only one half of this supposed partnership. If I can’t express my feelings, if I can’t speak freely with the woman I love, what kind of a partnership is that? I already had one relationship where I was stifled and unable to talk about things that were happening to me. I had to bury my feelings because my partner found them unsavory and didn’t want to hear them. I won’t have that again. I can’t.

“You want me to love you as you are, Phryne. Well, that’s what I want too. To be loved for who I am. As do we all.”

He turned and stalked to his own room, closing the door behind him and pacing the floor in agitation. He stopped in front of the mirror and was surprised to realize he’d just had his first argument with Phryne while wearing nothing but a towel. There seemed to be no end to his ability to humiliate himself in front of that woman. He grabbed a comb to run through his hair which had already dried too thoroughly to completely get under control. His hands were shaking.


	7. Chapter 7

Phryne didn’t know how long she stood staring at his closed door. Her mind was in tumult. He was angry with her. He’d been angry with her before, but this was different. She’d caused him pain and his pain settled on her skin like a bruise.

She didn’t know why she’d pushed him like that and then reacted so defensively. It was almost as if she’d been trying to goad him. It wasn’t as though his answer had come as a big surprise to her. She knew him well enough. His answer was the one she’d expected of him, especially after his earlier declarations.

That was the source of all of this. She’d been out of sorts since that misunderstanding.

She’d been thrown by it. Though she probably shouldn't have been. Of course Jack Robinson would want to do the right thing. But what would that have been like for her? To watch him raise a child that was not his own? To every day be reminded of his devotion and her own inconstancy?

She couldn’t take her eyes off his door, afraid he’d emerge without her knowing, or worse, leave by the door to the hallway.

Perhaps that would be best. He was a good man. A wonderful man, and she loved him, but she was too set in her ways. She wasn’t good at making compromises or considering others in her decision making. She was too restless, unable to stay still. She wanted to be home now. To be with him, but how long would it be before she felt the need to wander again? What if she was just incapable of sticking? This wasn’t fair to him, regardless of what he thought he wanted. She’d only continue to hurt him and she cared for him too much to do that. It would be best for him to leave now.

Best for him, she was sure, but not for her. Just the thought of it had heart beating wildly, her every nerve screaming. She would mourn the loss of him all her life.

 _What a muddle you’ve gotten yourself into this time, Phryne,_ she thought to herself. _This pool you’ve jumped willingly into with him is deeper than you realized and you’re already out of your depth._

She sat down on the sofa, listening to the sounds he made moving about his room. When he finally stepped out, dressed for dinner rather than travel, she thought she might faint from the relief. He looked a little startled to see her sitting there, still in her dressing gown.

“I was worried you might be in there packing your bags,” she said.

“You won’t be that easily rid of me. It was just an argument. I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

“I hurt you.”

“I’ll get over it.”

“No. You’re right, Jack. I’m too quick to throw up my defenses when I feel threatened. Or, in this case, frightened.”

“Phryne Fisher doesn’t get frightened.”

“Hah! I wish that were true!” she laughed, bitterly. Her nerves were taut and she worried they might snap and fray completely. “I don’t know how to do what it is we’re doing here. I’ve relied only on myself for too long and avoided any kind of dependence. I love you, Jack, and I don’t mean to hurt you, but I like being self-reliant.”

“I know that, Phryne. I love your self-reliance. It’s part of what drew me to you. We got off on the wrong foot due to my stupidity. Can we start again?”

“Don’t let me off the hook so easily, Jack. You do that too often. You said there were terms to our relationship. What did you mean?”

“There are no terms. That’s the wrong word.”

“What is the right word? Have I made demands on you?”

“You haven’t made demands, as such. But with any relationship there is give and take.”

“And you feel you’ve given up more than I have? Like the hope of marriage and children?”

“No! That’s not what I mean. I didn’t give anything up to be with you. As for marriage and children, what I thought I wanted changed when I met you.”

“But what if it changes again? What if you realize that you have given up something, and it turns out to be something you can’t live without? You’ll resent me.”

“You needn’t worry about that.”

“This might surprise you, but I do worry! I know there are women out there that would gladly give you everything you want. Everything you deserve. Perhaps you’d be better off with one of them.”

“There’s only one woman that can give me what I want and she’s here. I know there will be difficult moments, but I made my decision, Phryne. I want you. You make me happy.”

“And yet you feel the need to ‘walk on eggshells’ around me.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“If it’s true, then you should most definitely say it! Do you censor yourself around me, Jack?”

His eyes rolled back and his head bobbled back and forth in frustration as he battled with himself. He’d come out of his room ready to smooth things over if he could. They were just beginning and he didn’t want to blow this. On the other hand, they weren’t really just beginning. They’d been in this for awhile now, nearly from the day they met. Maybe it was best to get everything out in the open and not hide the depths of his feelings. He believed that she loved him and that they were better together, but if she was going to run, better she run now. Still, he tried to choose his words carefully.

“In some ways—in most ways—I’m more myself with you than with anyone, but yes, I suppose there are times I feel the need to watch what I say. To be careful not to hold you too close, metaphorically speaking,” he said.

“For fear I’ll bolt? Have I given you reason to think I will?”

“Not really. But, if you felt confined...you’re not easy to keep, Phryne. But it’s not just about you, it’s about me, too.” He moved about in a state of some agitation, wringing his hands. “When I realized that I loved you, I didn’t think it could work. Even if you cared for me.

“I’d always imagined that if I fell in love again it would be like before. That I’d marry. Perhaps have a family. That’s the way things happened. It’s the way things were. One man. One woman. Bound by vows and laws. But, that wasn’t the way you saw things.That’s not how it would be with you.”

“I might not believe in marriage, Jack, but you know you’re the only man I love.”

“The only man you love, but not the only one you want. Even now I don’t delude myself that there’s been no one else these past few months.”

“We never talked of fidelity,” she said, more defensively then she’d have liked. He flinched.

“What was there to talk about?” He shrugged. “This isn’t an issue of importance. It’s settled. I knew your feelings on the matter. It was up to me to decide if I could accept you being with others, and I have.”

“You’re free to do the same.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“That’s not fair,” she complained. Sex was just sex, why must it be more? Although, she’d begun to realize that with Jack, perhaps for the first time ever, it did matter to her that it could be more. That it was more.

“How isn’t it fair?” he said, unaware of her inner turmoil. “It’s how I feel and it doesn’t change anything. I’m never going to ask you to forsake other men.”

“But you’d like me to,” she said.

“What does it matter what I’d like?” he said, working to keep from becoming overly agitated. “It is what it is. I accept that.”

“So this is the compromise you’ve made? To allow me to be with other men against your wishes?”

“You misunderstand my meaning. I’m not ‘allowing’ anything. I can want whatever I want, but I can’t make you want something you don’t. We all have choices in life. I made mine.”

“So, you’re all right with my occasional dalliance outside of our relationship?”

“I accept it, Phryne. I’m not all right with it. But your dalliances are not the issue here, and you’re doing it again! Pushing me into a corner!” She’d settled on the one subject that still rubbed him raw and he suspected she knew that. “Would I prefer it if I was the only man you took to your bed? Yes. I’ve never hidden that from you. But I won’t make you an ultimatum and I won’t let you make it an issue.”

“Me? I’m the one making an issue of it?”

“Yes. I think you want it to be an issue because you’re frightened and looking for an easy way out. You want to dismiss me as just another man that wants to control you. Then you’d be able to say that this is like every other time. But this isn’t like any other time.”

“I know that, Jack,” she said, heavily. “I am increasingly aware of just how unlike anything else this is.”

She was also increasingly, and resentfully, aware of how easily he saw inside her mind, understanding her actions even before she did herself.

She looked small and forlorn and his heart was breaking again. If she couldn’t see it, he’d either have to work harder to help her to see it, or give up trying, before they broke each other irreparably. He stopped his pacing and stood looking down on her, holding her gaze.

“Phryne, what you give to anyone else is meaningless as long as I’m someone you trust with your true self. Because that’s who I want,” he said. “I have no desire to control you. To settle you. Why on earth would I want to snuff out the things that make you who you are? I love who you are. You’ve changed my life. I want to be your partner and friend, not just your lover. If I have that, I gain far more than I lose. If I have that, I have everything. You make me happy, Phryne. You know me. You understand me. I’m whole with you.”

It was as though a light dawned and brought into focus what had been eluding her. And it was this; that regardless of how fully formed you might be, someone else could still make you feel complete without taking anything away. Someone else could come along and fit neatly into a space within you that you didn’t even know existed. A space that could have gone unfilled and you’d never have noticed, but once the right person found their way into it, you might never feel entirely whole again were they to leave.

She inhaled sharply and, rather stupidly, burst into tears.

“Phryne!” He dropped to his knees before her. “What did I say? I said too much again, didn’t I? I keep making a mess of things.”

“You don’t, Jack. But, I didn’t know,” she struggled through her sobbing, trying not to fly apart. “I said the words. I knew they were true, but I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what, love? You’re not making sense.”

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her hands. He still knelt at her knees. His hands rested on her thighs, anchoring her. She dabbed at her eyes.

“I must look a mess,” she sniffed.

“You’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Then I don’t know who does.”

“I didn’t know it was possible, Jack,” she said, once she could breathe again. “I didn’t know you could have all of it. The trust, the friendship and the passion.”

“It’s not always like that, but I’ve always believed it could be, if you were very lucky,” he said. “That’s how it is for me. With you.”

Perhaps he was digging his own grave now, but what did it matter. If she was building up to tell him it wasn’t the same for her, that she loved him, but not like that, it was better to know now.

It was a wretched thought, but it wouldn’t kill him. He could live without her. He didn’t want to, but he could. What he couldn’t do was pretend to feel less. If it was too much for her, if she didn’t want it, he wouldn’t burden her any further with his love.

She looked up at him.

“Then, I guess we’re both among the lucky ones,” she said, smiling shyly.

She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so happy and she imagined her expression was much the same. He closed his eyes and seemed to collapse in on himself, lying his head down upon her lap, his hands slipping along her thighs to hold her hips gently.

She curled over him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, her other hand running gently through his hair.

“Oh, my love,” she whispered, blinking back happy tears. “My darling, Jack. It’s awful, isn’t it? To love like this?”

“Absolutely terrifying, Miss Fisher,” he said.

 

* * *

 

They ate surprisingly well at dinner. Apparently declaring one’s all encompassing love made for a hearty appetite. They laughed a lot too. Jack couldn’t remember ever feeling so light-hearted.

“I’ve been thinking about the case, Phryne,” he said, as the meal drew to a close. “Once you accept this woman’s help, I imagine you’ll be expected to undergo a physical exam. How did you plan to handle that?”

“There is no plan, Jack. You know me,” she said, breezily. “I’ll come up with something.”

“Then, may I suggest that Archie accompany you to your meeting tomorrow? Just to be on hand should anything become complicated? There’s safety in numbers,” he said.

“That’s not a bad idea. Archie coming along I mean—not your misguided attempt to protect me,” she said.

They procured a bottle of bourbon from the barkeep and returned to their rooms to come up with a plan. After about an hour, Phryne yawned and looked over at the clock.

“It’s been an exhausting day. Time for bed I think.” She drained the rest of her glass, rose and headed for the bedroom.

“I can sleep in my own room tonight,” he said, “so you can get a good night’s rest.”

“For a brilliant detective you can be surprisingly dense, Inspector,” she glanced over her shoulder at him. “That room is for appearances only. And for the occasional change of clothes, but don’t bother with pajamas tonight, Jack. I’m tired, not dead.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack go undercover for the case and make a disturbing discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The storyline takes a dark turn in this chapter, with children in peril. I wanted to offer fair warning. This chapter is a little long. I'm trying to wrap up the case so we can get back to something a bit more fun.

 

* * *

 

He woke to find her staring at him in a way that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Good morning, Phryne.”

“You have amazing eyelashes, Jack.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyelashes. They’re very long and thick. A lot of women would kill to have eyelashes like that.”

“Interesting observation, Miss Fisher.”

“I have more,” she said. “I’ve been awake for awhile now and you’re fascinating to watch.”

He was blushing to the tips of his ears and she was delighted to have discovered a new way to torture him.

“Did you know you snore? Not terribly, but in a sweet, huffing sort of way. And, you look very relaxed and happy when you sleep.”

“That is most likely due to the company currently sharing my bed,” he said. “The happy part, not the snoring.”

“Good. I like sharing a bed with you. I hope you know just how rare that is.”

“I’m aware. Mainly due to the fact that you share so poorly. More than once I’ve woken to find myself clinging to the edge of the mattress.”

“Don’t forget there is another bedroom, Jack. If you find me such terrible company,” she said, adopting a wounded expression.

“Oh no, Phryne.” He reached for her and pulled her against him. “I was told that room was for appearances only, and I’m all for keeping up appearances.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, sharing a long, languid kiss that curled her toes.

“I mean it, Jack. I like waking up with you, very much. I missed this when we were apart. If I take up too much space, just poke me.”

“You take up just the right amount of space, and if I ever do need more room, all I have to do is ask nicely and you curl up against me very prettily. You’re quite docile in your sleep.”

She rolled him roughly onto his back and sat up, straddling his hips and pinning his shoulders to the bed with her hands.

“I think you may have been dreaming, Jack. I’m anything but docile.”

“Dreaming or awake. I’m a very lucky man,” he said, running his hands up her sides.

“But, not this morning, I’m afraid,” she said. “We have work to do, Inspector.”

With one fluid motion, she swung her leg off of him and spun herself out of bed. He followed, with a bit less flair, and went to dress. He was glad he’d packed a few casual items, choosing a pair of moleskin trousers and a knit vest for their undercover operation.

“Tie, or no tie?” he called to her.

“No tie, Jack. I think Archie should be a little rough around the edges this time. Leave your hair more unkempt than usual, too. Perhaps just a touch less of the pomade?”

The pomade he used was a scent she associated strongly with him. She’d never tell him this, but after he’d left London, she’d bought herself a small jar of it and had kept it with her throughout her travels. Even now it was tucked beside the other toiletries in her vanity case.

“Will this do?” he asked, stepping from his room.

She turned to give him a critical once over.

“That’ll do nicely. Maybe you could roll up your shirtsleeves, and do you have a flat cap with you?”

“No. You’re lucky I have what I’m wearing. You didn’t provide much information in your telegram.”

“Well, we’ll have to pick one up on the way.”

She snatched up the prosthetic belly and began strapping it on over her silk chemise.

“Where did you get that thing?” he asked. “It doesn’t strike me as something one can pick up at the corner store.”

“I’m acquainted with the manager of a small theater in town. He let me borrow some items from the costume shop.”

“And, the job at the cafeteria? How did you manage to get that so quickly?”

“It was simple. Oliver, my friend at the theater, has a second cousin who is married to the daughter of the chef. He put in a word.”

“Right.”

“Why are you smiling?”

“Am I?” he said. “I guess I’d forgotten what fun this can be. I’d have just flashed my badge and started asking questions.”

“I do love when you throw your authority around, Jack. But sometimes a stealthier approach is needed. There,” she said, adjusting her dress over the new addition. “How do I look?”

“Different,” he said, feeling that was the safest response. He still found the sight of her like that a bit jarring.

“Well that’s the idea. And you look different as well, in a very intriguing way. What is it about you in shirtsleeves? Especially rolled like that,” she said, tracing a finger over his bared forearm. “We should be off. Mrs. Gotobed is expecting me.”

* * *

 

Phryne, or rather Fern, sat folded in on herself on pea green velvet love-seat in the front parlor of a neatly kept bungalow on a quiet but respectable looking street. Across from her sat Mrs. Gotobed. Mrs. Gotobed was a woman of middle-age, extensively made-up and wearing an ill-fitting dress, out of fashion by at least a decade. An expression of fixed benevolence graced her features.

“Well, it all sounds really nice, Mrs. Gotobed, and I’d be ever so grateful for the help. It’s been so difficult,” Fern sniffed. “I’m a strong person, I am, but he took the fight right out of me. It wasn’t until I realized I had more to protect than just myself that I got out.” She placed a protective hand on her belly.

Jack/Archie, who had been pacing in the background, came and sat down on the couch beside her, placing a protective arm around her shoulder and handing her a spotted handkerchief. His looming presence seemed to dwarf her.

“It’ll be alright, sweetheart. Everything will be alright, and we don’t need no one’s help, Fern. We’re fine on our own.”

“Archie, please! Ya keep sayin’ that. We need all the help we can get. I don’t want to start out by bleedin’ you dry, what with you going to a new job in a new place, and me with a brand new babe that I don’t even know how to care for.””

“I can take care of you,” Archie insisted. “And I can take care of the baby, too.”

“Another man’s baby! Can you really, Arch?” Fern cried. “This child will always be a reminder of my mistakes—isn’t that a terrible thing to think, Mrs. Gotobed! I want to love this child, really I do, but I’m so afraid I won’t be able to, being reminded of the father all the time.”

“You poor dear!” Mrs. Gotobed said.

“Hush now, love,” Archie said. “That’s all over. We’re together now. We’ll work it out.”

“Lord, Archie, what I put you through. I don’t know why you stay with me,” Fern said, then blew her nose loudly into Archie’s handkerchief. “Mrs. Gotobed, is there a toilet handy? I swear I need one every five minutes lately, and I could use a mo’ to freshen up.”

“Of course dear, just down the hall on your left. You go on. After that, perhaps you’ll allow me to have a look at you? To see if we can determine how soon we can expect your little bundle?”

“I’d say it’s any day now, Mrs. Gotobed,” Fern said, looking grim.

Phryne caught Jack’s eye for a quick moment when he stood to help her up. She waddled slowly down the hall, pausing in front of the bathroom and listening to be sure Jack and the woman were engaged in conversation before moving on to investigate the back of the house.

There were two rooms at the end of the hall. She crept down and slowly opened the first door. This room was minimally furnished with a sterile looking single bed and a steel table of the kind used in operating rooms. Heavy curtains covered the only window. It fit with the story Lucy had told of giving birth in a small house.

She paused outside the second door, listening for any sounds within. All was quiet and a peek inside revealed an ordinary bed chamber with a neatly made bed, nightstand and wardrobe. The roomed was clearly decorated to someone’s personal tastes and smelled of the sweet vanilla and slightly spicy perfume Mrs. Gotobed seemed to favor.

Phryne returned to the sitting room to find Jack pacing anxiously.

“I just don’t know how Fern would feel about that,” he was saying.

“How I’d feel about what?”

“I may have a solution for your problems dear, if you’d just sit down, we can discuss it,” Mrs. Gotobed said.

She explained that, through their wealthy benefactor, they could find an adoptive home for the baby.

“I think your young man finds it an agreeable solution,” Mrs. Gotobed said.

“Do ya, Arch?” Fern asked.

“I dunno,” he mumbled.

“Give up my baby?” She placed her hands over her stomach, looking down with a grieved, but thoughtful expression. “What kinda people are you talkin’ about? How do I know they’d be good to him. Or her?”

“They’re the very best kind of people. Wealthy and upstanding couples who haven’t been able to have children of their own and just want a baby to love. They’d take very good care of your child. He or she would want for nothing.”

“Would I be able to meet these people first? To make sure they’re all right?”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible. The adoptive parents meet with only Mr. Potts or myself. They take the baby immediately upon birth and prefer not to have contact with the mother. It’s better for everyone that way.”

“What about this Mr. Potts?” Archie asked, aggressively. “What’s in it for him?”

“There’s nothing in it for him. He just wants to help.”

“I dunno, Fern,” Archie said. “Never heard of nobody doin’ somethin’ for nothin’.”

“But, it would solve all our problems, and if the babe would be better off...Oh, Archie!” she cried, burying her head in his chest. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Don’t go getting all upset now, Fern,”

“Yes, dear, do calm down. You need to think of the child. Shall we have a look at you now?”

Fern began to sob hysterically. Shaking in Archie’s arms.

“I think it’s best if we go now,” Archie said. “I don’t want her upset any further today.”

And with that, Jack steered Phryne toward the door.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed. “You’ve been ever so nice.”

“You think on it dear,” Mrs. Gotobed said. “Whatever you decide, we’re here to help. We want to make sure that baby is born healthy.”

“Thank you. I’m gonna think on things real hard, Mrs. Gotobed,” Fern said.

* * *

 

“Well, everything is as Lucy said it would be. The room set up for delivery, the push to give up the baby at birth, but what is it all about? You don’t imagine they really have wealthy people lined up to adopt, do you?” Phryne asked.

“It seems unlikely. Besides, why the subterfuge with Lucy? There are enough unwanted children already available without stealing them from women that want to keep their children.”

“If it’s not about adoption, then what are they doing with the babies? Where is Lucy’s child.”

They had borrowed a car from another friend Phryne had in town and were parked down the street from the little house. Phryne had expected they might find Lucy’s baby at the house still, but since they hadn’t, she hoped Mrs. Gotobed might emerge and lead them to wherever it was being kept. That is, if the child hadn’t already been sent off somewhere else.

“You know, it’s still possible the baby died and these people really are just trying to help,” Jack said.

“Do you believe that?”

“Not really. While you were out of the room she really pushed the other man’s child angle. She was definitely trying to get me to admit I found the idea unacceptable. I think she really wants to get her hands on that baby. But to what purpose?”

They didn’t have to wait long before the woman in question emerged and got into a car parked at the curb in front of the house. Phryne and Jack waited until it had pulled away and turned the corner, then followed.

Phryne had removed the prosthesis and was wearing her canvas duster and matching hat. Jack had donned his overcoat and fedora. If Mrs. Gotobed glanced in her mirror and saw them following, she would not likely recognize them as Fern and Archie.

The car drove away from the more densely populated neighborhoods and eventually turned down a dirt road. Following immediately would be too obvious so Jack drove on for about a quarter of a mile before doubling back. They left the car along the side of the road and took the dirt path on foot. When a house came into view they left the path and moved into a wooded area in order to approach unobserved.

The house was neglected, its exterior worn by wind and weather. A dozen scrawny chooks roamed the yard, pecking at the dirt. Two young girls sat on the dilapidated front porch rinsing what looked like rags in a large wash basin. Another girl was collecting the rags, which on closer inspection were actually clothing and nappies, and hanging them to dry on a line.

Jack and Phryne moved around the back of the house. A small field planted with scraggly veg and greens was being worked by three more of the saddest, thinnest looking children Phryne had ever seen, and she’d grown up in Collingwood. None of the children could be more than ten years old and most were much younger. All were unwashed and barely dressed. She grabbed onto Jack’s arm.

“They’re skin and bones, Jack! I didn’t think places like this still existed!”

She’d heard of the so called baby farms. Unwed mothers who couldn’t look after their children sent them away to be cared for by ‘child-minders’ for either a lump sum payment or small weekly fee. The places were notorious for their ill treatment of the children. Child mortality soared due to neglect and, especially in cases with lump sum payments, some of the children were murdered because the money would not cover the cost of care. Most people still knew of the infamous case from 1894 of Frances Knorr. A child minder executed for the strangling deaths of infants in her care.

“They still exist,” Jack said grimly, “but they’re supposed to be better regulated. This shouldn’t be.”

“Is this where they’ve taken Lucy’s baby? Why? She didn’t pay them anything. I haven’t been asked for any money either.”

“Not yet, anyway. And it’s not uncommon for baby farmers to sell off infants for profit.”

“What will we do, Jack? We have to find out if Lucy’s child is in there, but we can’t leave these other children behind.”

“This is bigger than we can handle on our own. I think it’s time to get the local authorities involved.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't intend to make this as awful as what really occurred with baby farming. The stories I found were truly horrific. These places came about mostly due to the shunning of unwed mothers, although child minders were used by wealthy women too. From what I can find, the situation had improved by the late 1920's, but it was a sad fact of life before child welfare laws were enacted and enforced.


	9. Chapter 9

After a bit of back and forth, with Phryne at first arguing to go into the house right away, they returned to the car, and drove until they found the nearest phone where Jack made a call to his contact with the local police. The man was hesitant to get involved.

“Thanks for the tip,” he said. “I’ll put someone from welfare on to it.”

“You can’t just push this off! If welfare was doing their job I wouldn’t even be calling you!”

“It’s not my purview and you know it, Robbo.”

“Since when are you so careful? This can’t wait, Bernie. I have reason to believe there is more than just neglect here. We may have stumbled onto a kidnapping and illegal adoption. There’s an infant involved, born less than a week ago. In conditions like I’ve just seen we’ve got to move fast, or who knows what might happen.”

“Those are some serious allegations. Do you have any proof?”

“I can’t get the proof until I can get inside. We’ll go in without you if we have to. This call was just a courtesy. If the press gets wind of this and finds out the police knew and did nothing, no one looks good, Bernie.”

“Are you blackmailing me, Jack? That’s not like you.”

“You didn’t see those kids,” Jack said, hollowly.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “I’m bucking for a promotion. I can’t make waves right now. I’m sorry, mate.”

“I don’t like to play this card, Bern,” Jack said, “but you owe me.”

Phryne could only hear Jack’s side of the conversation and when she realized the man was resistant, she was livid, wanting to snatch the phone from Jack’s hand and rail at the idiot on the other end. Jack’s last statement seemed to sway the man and after a minute more of discussing logistics, he hung up and told her help was on the way.

“Who is this Bernie and how does he owe you?” Phryne asked as they made their way back to the end of the dirt road where they stopped to await the reinforcements.

“Frank Bernard,” Jack said. “Good man. There were four of us that started at the academy together. Bernie and I got assigned to City South. Bill and Reg to North. Then Bernie and I went off to serve around the same time. After, he had a tough time adjusting, as did we all. His fiancée left him and his drinking got out of hand. I covered for him. More times than I can count. Until he was late for one too many shifts and I found him passed out drunk. It had to stop. I told the boss he had flu and then I called in Bill and Reg and the three of us spent the next five days taking turns with him while he dried out.”

“That can’t have been fun.”

“Far from it. He was very ill but we couldn’t go to hospital or the brass would find out and he’d lose his job. He was belligerent, even violent at times. He would have these crazy hallucinations and flashbacks. And we were all doing this after full shifts. I don’t think any of us slept more than a few minutes at a time for days. He came out the other end, but eventually felt he needed to get away from old reminders. He asked for a transfer. He’s done well here. He’s a Senior Sergeant now.”

“Well, then I’d say he does owe you, Jack. Quite a lot.”

“He owes me nothing,” Jack shrugged. “He’d have done it for me. I shouldn’t have used it like that. It just—those kids. We can’t leave them there a minute more.” She took his hand, giving it a squeeze.

A police vehicle pulled up and two men got out. The one in plain clothes approached Jack. They shook his hands and clapped each other’s shoulders while nodding solemnly. The equivalent of a bear hug, Phryne supposed, for men like that.

“I suppose you’re going to want to follow us in.” Bernie said. “Not exactly protocol, Robbo, considering your Miss Fisher here is a civilian.”

“I believe I can handle a middle-aged woman and a bunch of starving children,” Phryne bristled, letting his descriptor of her as belonging to Jack slide, having found it less irritating than she might have a few months ago.

“We don’t really know what we’re walking into, miss,” Bernie said.

“You don’t need to worry about her,” Jack said. “She can take care of herself. Besides, there’s no chance she’s not going in, so there’s no sense in arguing the point.”

“We’re wasting time, gentlemen,” Phryne said. Bernie gave a resigned nod and Jack and Phryne got in their vehicle to follow the police cruiser up the lane.

They took the little house and its occupants by surprise, and within a few minutes had the children gathered on the porch alongside Mrs. Gotobed and another woman that looked to be in her mid-twenties.

“What is the meaning of this?” Mrs. Gotobed asked haughtily. She set down the large carpet bag she was carrying, and stood as tall as her five foot two inch frame allowed, placing her hands on her hips. Phryne assumed it was an attempt to look intimidating and in charge.

“I’m Sergeant Bernard with the police, and we’ve had a call regarding the welfare of the children at this residence,” Bernie said.

“Well, it’s about time!” Mrs. Gotobed, replied. “This place is a disgrace!”

“Who is in charge here?” Bernie asked.

The younger woman shuffled forward. She wore a dress not much cleaner than the clothes worn by her wards. She was painfully thin. It appeared she’d made a minimal attempt to look presentable, having pulled her hair back from her face, but long strands, brittle as straw, escaped their bounds and hung around her sallow face. Her eyes were rheumy and her nose was running.

Jack and Bernie exchanged a look and Phryne saw Bernie’s face color. All three of them recognized the look of addiction.

“You run this place?” Bernie asked, incredulously. The woman couldn’t take care of herself much less anyone else. “Who are you then,” he asked Mrs. Gotobed, “what is your business here?”

“My name is Mrs. Arthur Gotobed and I represent a charity organization that has been trying to help this poor woman and these children, but there is only so much one can do!”

“You don’t seem to have done much of anything at all,” Phryne barked angrily.

Mrs. Gotobed turned to her for the first time and a glimmer of recognition crossed her face. Her eyes dropped to Phryne’s stomach, then she looked from Phryne to Jack, her mouth falling open.

“What is this? Who are you people?”

“Detective Inspector Jack Robinson,” Jack flashed his badge.“This is Miss Fisher, she’s a private detective and she has some questions for you.”

“Not Fern, then? I don’t have to answer anyone’s questions. Least of all hers. If you’ll excuse me, I’m expected elsewhere.”

“You can answer the questions here, or we can take you down to the station and you will answer them there,” Jack said.

“You have no authority for that! I’ve told you, I’ve no part of this, I was only trying to help.”

Phryne doubted that very much. She had a feeling Mrs. Gotobed, if that was even her real name, was the force behind all of this. Bernie, it seemed, wasn’t buying her act either.

“We have all the authority we need,” he said. “There is obvious neglect here and we can take both of you in and hold you as long it takes to sort things out and determine responsibility.”

“We’re looking for an infant,” Phryne put in, their search of the house had not turned up the baby. “Born five days ago and taken from her mother against her will. You assisted with the birth and were one of the last people to see the child.”

“I’ve helped several unwed mothers. It’s what I do. As you well know. I don’t know what this elaborate ruse of yours is all about, but I do not ‘steal’ babies! That’s ridiculous. Is this what I get for trying to do good deeds!” she lamented.

Phryne felt a light tugging on her shirtsleeve. She looked down into wide, brown eyes in the skeletal face of a girl no more than six years of age, and felt her heart break a little more. The little girl looked down at the carpet bag by Mrs. Gotobed’s feet, and back at Phryne. Phryne tilted her head, questioning, and the girl repeated the gesture.

Mrs. Gotobed was still ranting about the injustice of it all.

“I will not stand for this insult, and if you try to arrest me, you will regret it. I’m supported by a very wealthy and powerful man and he’ll have both your badges!” She reached down and lifted the bag from the ground.

“Don’t let her take the bag, Jack!” Phryne said, and Mrs. Gotobed’s angry glare turned, once again, on her.

Bernie held up his hand stopping the woman from leaving. With a defiant sneer she let Jack take the bag from her. He handed it to Phryne, who gasped upon opening it.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Mrs. Gotobed insisted, coldly. “The child wasn’t wanted. Her mother willingly gave it to me and I’m simply taking it to the adoptive parents.”

“Then I presume you have all the proper paperwork on you?” Bernie said.

The baby appeared to be sleeping, but didn’t stir when lifted from the bag and was dead weight in Phryne’s arms. She checked for a pulse and, to her relief, found a slow but steady beat. The brown eyed girl who had drawn Phryne’s attention earlier, reached up and caressed the baby’s head adoringly.

“I call her Sara,” she said, quietly.

“What have you given her?” Phryne said angrily to Mrs. Gotobed, blinking back tears.

“Nothing that will harm. It was just a bit of laudanum to keep it quiet for the ride. And I really must ask that you return it. The new parents are waiting.”

“Those papers, Mrs. Gotobed. I can’t let you take the child without them,” Bernie said, firmly.

“It was an informal adoption,” she wavered.

“Right,” Bernie said. “You’re coming with me. Both of you. Constable, If you will escort these women to the car please.”

“What about the kids, Sarge?” The constable asked. “Should we call welfare?”

The boy looked stricken by the scene before him and Phryne was forcefully reminded of Hugh Collins, as he’d been when she’d first met him. Then Dot sprang unbidden to mind, and Mr. Butler and, of course, Jane. She stared down at the unconscious infant in her arms. She was weary and desperately sad. She just wanted to go home.

Jack’s hand came to rest firmly between her shoulder blades. She eased out a shaky breath, straightening, and standing a bit taller again.

“Don’t put in a call to welfare yet,” Bernie said to his constable. “Take the women to the station and lock them up. Then come back here with the wagon to collect the kids.”

The constable bundled the women into the car. He’d had to handcuff Mrs. Gotobed, who was livid and uncooperative. The other woman had gone quietly.

“You can’t send these children to welfare,” Phryne steamed.

“I’m not intending to. I have a better place in mind, but I wasn’t about to put my constable in a position where he had to lie. After it’s done, he can honestly say he was only following orders. I’ll take the heat. Is that the child you’re looking for?” Bernie asked.

“I believe so,” Phryne said. The baby strongly resembled a picture Lucy had showed Phryne of her beau.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you take her,” Bernie said, steeling himself for the storm he knew was coming.

He understood what Jack saw in Phryne Fisher. He knew who she was of course, from the newspapers, but she wasn’t anything like he’d expected. She seemed to have a spine of steel. She’d stood strong while his own constable had nearly buckled and fallen apart at the sight of these neglected kids. Even he, himself, had been shaken.

They’d found eight in total, plus the babe. Living in utter squalor. There was barely any food in the house and little furniture. The beds consisted of nothing more than sheets of cardboard cut from boxes and laid on top of grass and straw. There was no electricity or heat, and no fuel for a fire, not that he thought the falling down chimney could handle one anyway.

Miss Fisher had looked upon it all with the dispassionate eye of one who has seen far worse. She was clearly furious, but there was none of the pious pity, or worse, the disgust, for the less fortunate he so often saw in the rich.

“What do you mean I can’t take her? This child needs her mother.” Her eyes flashed and she cradled the babe with a grip that dared anyone to try to make her relinquish the child.

“I agree, but we have to verify her parentage,” Bernie said. “Until then, she’ll stay with the other children and be well cared for.”

“Where, exactly, are you planning to take them all?”

“I have a friend. Sister Gene. She’ll look after them.”

“A nun? You’re taking these children to the church?”

He hadn’t been prepared for such a negative reaction.

“No. She’s not with the church. Not anymore. I only call her Sister out of habit—no pun intended—look, I’m on your side here,” Bernie said, sensing his weak joke had broken a bit of the tension.

Phryne glanced quickly at Jack with a look that asked if his friend was on the up and up. A minuscule nod of his head confirmed it.

“You can trust me, Miss Fisher,” Bernie said.

“Jack trusts you,” she said. “That’s good enough for me.”

“I could say the same,” Bernie replied. “It’s the only reason you’ve gotten this far.” Their eyes met in mutual admiration and a grudging truce was formed.

“But,” Phryne said, “I’m going with you to deliver these children.”

“I assumed as much.”


	10. Chapter 10

The former Sister Gene was a lively woman who seemed to vibrate with energy. She wore a man’s shirt and dungarees on her tall, wiry frame and had short, violently curly blond hair that she’d attempted to hold off of her heart-shaped face with an ineffectual bobby pin. It stuck randomly in her curls like a pitchfork stabbed into a haystack.

“I know you’re not really set up for this, Sister,” Bernie was saying as Gene looked over the motley group of children, her hands on her hips. “It’s only until I can arrange proper foster care.”

“We’ll make room, Francis, and when will you stop calling me sister?” She smiled, an action so effortless one got the impression it was her default expression.

“When you stop calling me Francis,” he teased. “I can bring you some new chooks later too, if you want them. They’re a bit scrawny, but...”

“We’ll need to keep them separate from the others until we know they’re not ill,” she said, thoughtfully, glancing at the fat hens wandering about her yard.

“I can fence off a spot for them tomorrow. I was planning to come fix that loose porch rail anyway,” he said.

“I don’t know what we’d do without you, Francis,” she said, turning her bright smile on him. Phryne couldn’t help but notice the slight blush that crept over his cheeks. Gene called to a young woman nearby, asking her to take the children inside and give them something to eat.

The baby, still in Phryne’s arms, stirred and started to cry. Phryne wasn’t sure when she’d heard anything more beautiful. For a moment, anyway. It soon rose to an alarming volume. Gene stepped over, stroked the baby’s hand and the little fist closed around her finger. The crying stopped. The baby’s eyes opened, looking up at the newcomer curiously.

“Who do we have here?” Gene asked.

“We’re not entirely sure,” Phryne said, “but for now we’re calling her Sara.”

“A beautiful name, for a beautiful child. May I?” She reached out her arms and Phryne reluctantly handed the child over.

Jack had been watching Phryne with the baby. She’d held the girl with a possessiveness that had surprised him. Not that he could blame her for feeling protective. The thing was tiny and helpless. As he’d watched her lift its apparent lifeless form from that bag he’d thought he might collapse with grief. When she’d laid her finger on the neck, and looked up to meet his eye with an expression of utter relief, he’d felt a little light headed.

Now, as she handed the child over to another woman, their eyes met again and something passed between them. It was an odd feeling, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it, or her small, sad smile. The moment was fleeting, and then she turned her attention back to the woman now holding the baby.

“Is all of this yours?” she asked.

They were in front of a modest farmhouse, painted a cheerful yellow, with a welcoming front porch and window boxes full of flowers. Bountiful looking gardens graced one side of the house. There was a large coop for the hens and a couple of goats had the run of a fenced area near the barn. The contrast between that previous house of horrors and this happy place was astonishing.

Phryne had noticed several young girls on the property. Some were clearly with child, including the one that had collected the children and taken them inside. Others had young ones slung on their hip, or toddlers clinging to their skirts.

“What is it you do here, Gene?” Phryne asked.

“I think you might have figured that out already,” Gene said, she looked up from the baby to meet Phryne’s gaze.

“This is a home for unwed mothers,” Phryne said.

“And their children,” Gene said, “until they can get on their feet. Would you like a look around? You’re welcome to stay for tea.”

“I should get to the station and question those women,” Bernie said. “I can’t imagine Mrs. Gotobed is waiting quietly. Are you two coming?”

Phryne laid a hand on the baby’s head. “I’m going to reunite you with your mother,” she said, quietly. “Very soon.”

“She’ll be well taken care of until then,” Gene said.

“I’m sure she will be,” Phryne said. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

They started with the younger woman, thinking her to be the weaker link. They were right. She was exhausted and wanted to be done with the whole charade. Her name was Maribelle Bay, and she looked far older than her twenty-eight years. She had had the misfortune of making the acquaintance of Mrs. Gotobed years earlier, shortly after she’d started out in the child minding business.

Miss Bay was an unwed mother herself, and being unable to afford to pay anyone to care for her child, she’d decided to take in the children of other women in similar straits. She'd set herself up in the old house she’d shared with her great-grandfather after her mother had kicked her out. It seemed a good idea at the time. The house wasn't much, but she owned it outright and she'd been lonely living there with only her toddler son after her great-grandfather died.

One day Mrs. Gotobed came to her and suggested an arrangement. She said she matched unwanted children with adoptive parents. Desperate couples that were willing to pay for a baby. If Miss Bay would agree to watch the infants until the adoptions took place, Mrs. Gotobed would share some of the proceeds.

Maribelle knew it wasn’t right, but she needed the money. It had turned out she wasn’t very good at the child minding business. Some of the women that had left their children with her had stopped sending payments and disappeared. She was having trouble making ends meet. She envied those women for being able to go on to a different life, and began to resent the children they’d left behind, along with her own. She’d had plans for her life. Then one night with a man that had lied to her, and rejected her as soon as he’d had his way, had ruined everything. She decided to accept Mrs. Gotobed’s offer.

After that the woman would show up occasionally with a newborn, but Maribelle rarely saw any money. What was in good supply was laudanum, provided by Mrs. Gotobed to keep the infants docile. Maribelle turned to it for relief.

She couldn’t say how many infants had passed through the home, after awhile she was hardly paying attention, but it had been fewer as of late. She had never met Mr. Potts, the so called benefactor. Today was the first time she’d even heard the name mentioned as far as she could remember.

After getting all they were likely to from Maribelle, it was time to talk to Mrs. Arthur Gotobed. Bernie’s constable had done some checking and found record of a marriage between Gertrude Mason and Arthur Gotobed some twenty years earlier. There was no record of a dissolution of the marriage or the death of Arthur Gotobed, though evidence from the house Phryne and Jack saw indicated Gertrude Gotobed lived alone. This seemed in keeping with what Bernie had learned about her husband’s current whereabouts.

He kept that information under his hat until he heard what the woman had to say for herself. At first, it wasn’t much. She was not inclined to talk and did little more than rail at the detectives, once again invoking the name of Phineas Potts, saying he would be most displeased by this turn of events.

“Perhaps you’d care to phone Mr. Potts? Maybe he can shed some light on the subject for us,” Bernie said.

“I wouldn’t want to disturb him, he’s a very busy man. A powerful man. But if I don’t return home tonight, he will come looking for me and he will be very angry if he finds me here being mistreated by you people.”

“Does Mr. Potts often visit you at your home?”

“If you must know, we are living together. There’s nothing sordid about it. We maintain separate rooms—until the marriage takes place, of course,” she said. “We are not savages, but he doesn’t wish to be away from me.”

“You and Phineas Potts are to marry?” Jack asked.

“Yes. It was all so unexpected,” she said, grinning like a school girl, her hand fluttering at her neck, “Imagine, a man like that, loving me? I began as his humble servant, doing the good works he supports, but he fell in love with me. And I with him.”

“But, what of your husband Arthur, Mrs. Gotobed?” Phryne asked.

“Sadly, I lost Mr. Gotobed years ago. I am a widow,” she said.

Bernie made a point of double checking the report in front of him.

“There is no record of your husband’s death, Mrs. Gotobed,” he said. “Your husband’s former employer told us he resigned his position year’s ago, saying he was moving away from the area. Our inquiries have found an Arthur Gotobed living not far from here, in Alawoona, with a wife and two children.”

“She is not his wife!” she screamed, her whole demeanor changing in an instant. “She is his _whore!_ A worthless whore that used her wiles to lure him from me and then trapped him with a child. I told him he didn’t have to take care of the little bastard, that it was not our responsibility, but he’d convinced himself he was in love. He wanted a divorce. I refused, thinking he just needed time to come to his senses. But he was weak and allowed himself to be manipulated.”

“He left you,” Phryne said. “That must have been difficult.”

She looked at Phryne and blinked, taking a deep breath, sitting up straighter and returning to her previous pompous manner. But, even in her veil of righteousness, her true, ugly nature was soon revealed.

“It was for the best,” she said, calmly. “I lost Arthur, but the Lord brought me Phineas. That wonderful man saw how I’d been devastated by the actions of a loose and godless woman. He said Arthur had never been worthy of me. But I never blamed Arthur. He was a good man, just spineless, and I pray for him. I couldn’t save him, but I vowed to make sure no other man would be trapped by an evil woman like that. No man would ever again be forced to demean himself by raising the worthless spawn of a whore.”

“Like Lucy?” Phryne asked, barely controlling her building rage.

“Another slut with delusions,” Mrs. Gotobed spat. “The man she hoped to trap was not coming back. Working on the railway, indeed. He’d done a runner and good for him. I was doing her a favor by taking that baby. Not that she deserved my beneficence.”

“And what was to become of her child?”

“You’d be surprised what some people will pay for garbage,” she said.

Jack felt Phryne's fury, saw her fists clenching. He reached out, clasping his hand over hers and pulling it down onto her lap under the table, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Please take Mrs. Gotobed back to her cell, constable,” Bernie said.

“You’re making a terrible mistake. Phineas will see you ruined for your treatment of me!” She screamed as she was taken away.

“Is that enough for you? Can I reunite Lucy with her child now?” Phryne asked.

“I’ll take her to Gene’s myself,” Bernie said. “You know—I’m not sure this Phineas Potts she talks about even exists. We can’t come up with any record of the man anywhere. I’ll admit I hadn’t checked upcoming banns, but I’m guessing that would be a waste of time anyway.”

“That woman lives alone or I’ll eat my hat. Could this Phineas Potts, be a figment of her imagination, do you think?” Phryne said. “She’s invented a wealthy and powerful man that supports her vengeful actions, and falls in love with her on top of it.”

“If the man is real, and working with her, Phineas Potts is not his name, and we aren’t likely to ever find him. Once he hears of her arrest, he’ll run, but I’m more inclined to think that you’ve got it right, Phryne,” Jack said. “She made him up. That woman is not right in the head.”

“That’s putting it kindly,” Bernie said. “We’ll charge her for the abduction of Lucy’s child, she’s all but admitted it. Don’t know how much more we’ll be able to pin on her unless some other mothers come forward. None of the parents that participated in illegal adoptions are likely to talk.”

“What will happen to Mirabelle?” Phryne asked. She was conflicted with regard to the woman. Clearly she’d been neglectful and needed to be held accountable, but she had been, in her own a way, a victim of the way society turns its back on women like her while allowing the fathers to walk away with no consequence. It was terribly unfair.

“We can get her help for her addiction, but she’ll serve time, at the very least. We’ll have to do a thorough search of her property. Hopefully we won’t uncover anything more horrible than what we’ve already seen,” Bernie said. They all felt the weight of that statement, feeling a bit ill to think of what might have happened had it gone on much longer. 

Phryne didn’t want to keep mother and child apart any longer. They picked up Lucy and headed back to Gene’s place. Bernie came along for the ride.

“We don’t get that many happy endings in this business,” he said. “I’d hate to miss this one.”

“And it gives you a chance to see Gene again,” Phryne said. The shocked expression he gave her had her laughing out loud.

“You’re rather transparent, mate,” Jack said, laughing along. “She’s a remarkable woman. You could do worse.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bernie objected. “It’d never work.”

“Why not? She’s not a nun anymore,” Phryne said. “Why did she leave the order anyway?”

“It wasn’t for me, if that’s what your thinking,” Bernie said. “She does a bit more than provide care for pregnant women and children. Some of it the church wouldn’t like.”

“I’m intrigued,” Phryne said.

“She believes in educating women, single and married, about reproductive health and the options available to them regarding family planning.”

“I can see why the church would frown on that, but I’m liking her more and more!”

The reunion of mother and child was every bit as wonderful as Phryne had hoped it would be, and a little more emotional for her than she’d imagined.

When Gene found out that Lucy was staying in a boarding house, she offered a place in the home. This was acceptable to everyone, not least the little girl that had alerted Phryne to the baby’s presence in the first place. Phryne introduced the little girl to Lucy.

“We might not have found your girl without her,” she said, “I believe she took great care of the child. She calls her Sara.”

“I hadn’t let myself think of names yet,” Lucy said, looking down at the child squirming in her arms. The baby had her father’s nose and his thick dark hair. “Sara. It suits her. I think we’ll keep it. Sara Margaret—after my grandmother.”

“Sara Margaret,” the brown-eyed girl repeated, beaming.


	11. Chapter 11

They stayed to eat and Gene explained how the house functioned. Everyone was expected to contribute in whatever way they could in return for care and assistance with the birth of their child. Even after a woman moved away from the house, she was still able to get help with childcare while she worked. In return, those working mothers contributed a part of their paycheck to the house.

“But, isn’t that a lot of back and forth for the women and their children between their new home and work and here each day?” Jack asked.

“It’s not ideal, but what’s the alternative? They have to provide for the children and can’t leave them home alone while they work. We’re only a short walk from the bus line. In very inclement weather we have an old car we can send down to meet them at the stop. We’ve even had married woman who work outside the home inquire. I wish we could accommodate them all. I’m trying to raise funds to open a day nursery in the heart of the city. There’s a real need.”

“I think what you’re doing here is wonderful,” Phryne said.

“It’s a work in progress,” Gene said. “We’re learning every day, and we rely on help from others as well. We’re very lucky to have some strong support here in town,” she looked at Bernie with a smile, “the women in my former order are very supportive, and I’ve learned to be good at fund raising. You’ve seen some of the worst our town has to offer, but we have plenty of good people here too.”

“Well, I’m very impressed. It’s people like you that will put people like Gertrude Gotobed out of business,” Phryne said, before offering a large donation to the cause. As they said their goodbyes, she made Gene promise to let her know if she ever needed additional funds. 

* * *

 

Phryne and Jack made the drive back to the hotel in silence. Each of them lost in their own thoughts. It was often like that at the end of a difficult case. They both needed some time to process everything, but for each of them, having the other nearby was comforting, even without ever saying a word.

This case had ended better than it might have, but it was still hard to think about the way those children had been living and what could have happened to them and Lucy’s baby if the detectives hadn’t arrived when they did.

As they walked through the lobby, Jack reached for Phryne’s hand. Once on their floor, they didn’t bother with the pretense of Jack going into his own room and when they were through to the suite, with the door closed behind them, Jack pulled Phryne into his arms, one arm looping around her waist, the other coming up behind her back, his large hand cradling the back of her head and pulling her into a firm embrace.

She buried her face in his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him and leaning into him, breathing in the familiar and welcome scent that meant safety and home. After a long moment they separated, feeling lighter and somehow renewed. Phryne went to pour them drinks from last night’s bottle of bourbon.

“Is that wise?” Jack asked, in a teasing voice. “I’m not sure I want my pilot drinking before a flight.”

“Are you nervous about your first flight in a biplane, Jack?”

“Who says it’s my first?”

“Have you flown in a small aircraft before, Inspector?”

“Indeed I have, Miss Fisher. More than once. It’s an exhilarating experience.”

“Why did I not know this?” she said, looking very disappointed. “I was hoping to show you something new.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t keeping it from you. It just never came up,” he shrugged.

“I do sometimes forget you had a life before you met me.”

“It wasn’t nearly as much fun,” he said. “Are you sure you’re ready to go home?”

“I am, Jack,” she sighed. They were seated on the coach, his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into his side with her feet tucked up under her. “I’ve been away too long.”

“I’m glad. Melbourne wasn’t the same without you,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She yawned widely. “You’re tired.”

“Yes, time for bed I think. Would you mind if we just slept tonight?” she asked, so timidly that it surprised him. He wondered if she’d only ever taken men to her bed for sex and realized, with some surprise, they had yet to share a bed without having relations.

“Of course I don’t mind,” he said. “Would you like me to sleep in the other room? Give you some space?”

“I don’t need space, Jack. I need—I want you to stay with me.”

They curled together under the covers. His cotton pajamas felt strange against her cheek. Sometimes he’d don the bottoms after they’d made love, but he’d never before worn the top.

“Could you remove your shirt?” she asked.

“I thought—”

“I’d just like to feel your skin. Am I being too demanding?”

“Not at all.” He removed the shirt, tossing it to the floor and slid back under the cover to take her into his arms again. She sighed happily. “Phryne. Have you never slept with a man before—I mean, just slept?”

“No,” she said, after a rather pregnant pause.

“Oh.”

“There never seemed any point to that,” she said. “Of course there was the occasional man that stayed the night, but even that is probably less frequent than you’d imagine. It’s not as though I tossed them from the bed once I was through with them! They went off happily enough. We both knew why we were there and once the connection had been explored, it was enough. I’m oversimplifying, but it’s a bit like riding a rollercoaster. It’s exciting, and one might go back for another ride or two, but once the ride is over, you head back to solid ground with a very pleasant memory.”

He thought about this analogy and wondered how it applied to them. She’d said this was different, but was it just a longer ride than usual? Would she eventually find solid ground?

“Jack,” she said, “we should probably talk about how things will be when we get home.”

“We don’t need to talk about it. We’ll figure it out as we go.” He didn’t want to burst this bubble just yet. He had one more night with her away from the realities of home and he just wanted to hold her close and pretend it could be like this forever.

“I think we should talk,” she said. She had things she wanted to say, but hadn’t known how to bring them up. She didn’t want it to be some monumental conversation, there’d been enough of those lately. Now, as they lay comfortably together in the dark, it seemed a good time to approach it. Or rather, it felt like now or never.

“All right. Then we’ll talk,” he said. He had a bad feeling about this and was glad for the cover of darkness.

“Before you left London, we never spoke about what this would be between us. How it might change things.”

“I don’t see why it has to change much of anything,” he objected. “I think we’ve seen that we still work well together. What has to change?”

“I was thinking on a more personal level. On the subject of fidelity. I know—I’ve always known—it’s important to you.”

“I told you my feelings on this,” he said. Why must she keep making him repeat it? Whatever he might want, he wouldn’t ask her to be faithful to him alone.

“Yes, but you’ve never asked how I feel, nor have I shared my feelings on the subject with you.”

“I know how you feel.”

“I don’t think you do. Can you just listen to me for a moment?” She moved out of his arms and turned so she could see him. Her eyes had adjusted enough to make out his features. He was on his back staring up at the ceiling, his jaw clenched as if braced for a blow.

“I don’t _need_ it, you know,” she said. “It’s not something fundamental to my being. I _like_ it.”

She saw his jaw unclench slightly as his brow furrowed. He turned to look at her but didn’t utter a word.

“After you left London, there were others. Not right away, and only two.”

“You don’t need to tell me this, Phryne,” he said, sounding a little strained. “In fact, I think I’d rather you didn’t.”

“It bothers you to think of me with other men,” she said matter of factly.

“Of course it does!” he said. “More now than before. Before it was just a hazy imagining, but now. Well, now my brain is able to fill in a lot more detail and believe me, that doesn’t make it easier.”

“I know. It bothers me to think of you with other women,” she said.

“Does it?” That took him by surprise. “Well, there are no other women. Never have been, so not much of a worry there.”

“What about your Italian widow?”

“She wasn’t mine.”

“She could have been. Am I right? Just how close did I come to losing you, Jack?”

“You didn’t come close. Not really.”

“But, she wanted you, and you considered it, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t realize you’d even been aware of that,” he said. He thought there might have been a touch of jealousy on her part at Concetta’s attentions, a curiosity, but he hadn’t been sure.

“So you did consider it? What was she offering, Jack? Commitment? Marriage?”

“Yes,” he said. “But it was a crazy idea. I’m a cop, her family is Camorra. Even if she could cut ties, there’d always be those on the force that would find my connection to a crime family questionable. And would she really be able to forgive me if I had to put her relatives in jail?”

She sat up abruptly.

“Is that why you walked away? Her family connections?”

“No! There was nothing to walk away from. I was fond of her,” he said. "I was fond of her, but I didn’t think of her that way. I was married when we met, and she was a grieving widow. Or, so I thought.”

“You were married when we met,” she said, pointedly. “She’s a beautiful woman and you’re a passionate man.”

Now he sat up too, leaning back against the headboard.

“What do you want me to say, Phryne? That I did think about her on occasion? All right, I’ll admit it. She is a beautiful woman, and kind, and I was lonely, but nothing ever happened beyond friendly affection. I had no idea she felt that strongly for me. I’m not even sure that she did. She may have been just looking for a way out of her life.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Jack. That woman was in love with you.” _Rightly so_ , she thought to herself.

“But I wasn’t in love with her, Phryne. Maybe I could have been, had I not met you, but I did meet you and that was it. I knew it. She knew it. It was you. From the beginning. It had to be you.”

“Are you quoting song lyrics to me now, Jack,” she said, in part to lighten the mood but also to give herself time to absorb the enormity of what he’d just said.

“Not intentionally,” he said. She could tell he was smiling. “Why are we even talking about this? You needn’t worry about other women. I’ve already told you I don’t want anyone else.”

“I know. I was trying to tell you the same, but I got a little sidetracked.”

“You were what?”

She sighed.

“Those two encounters when we were apart. The circumstances were much as they’d always been. I was attracted, felt a spark, enjoyed the back and forth flirtations and the sex was fine—even good—but it lacked something. My body was satisfied, but little else was. There was nothing to talk about with those men, little laughter and no joy. It was hollow, Jack. An itch scratched. After the second time, all I could think was that I could get just as much satisfaction on my own.”

“What are you saying?”

“Well, I’m not saying that I’ll never look at another man again, or even that I’ll not flirt—in fact you can pretty much be guaranteed that I will—but as for the rest of it, I’d like to try keeping that between the two of us. Alone.”

“You’re not doing this just for me, are you?”

“Of course I’m doing it for you! I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m also doing it because it’s what I want. It’s my choice. You didn’t make me, or even ask me for it. You let me get here on my own. And, I’m here now.”

“And, if you change your mind?”

“If that happens we’ll talk about it then. Before anything changes. We’ll talk about it,” she shrugged.

“Are you sure I’m enough for you?”

“You were always enough for me. It was never about needing more. I know what we have, Jack. I like what we have. I want to do this. With you. I just thought you should know.”

“Oh,” he said. He hadn’t expected this, and wasn’t quite sure what the proper reaction was when your lover told you she wanted you to be her only lover. Finally he just said, “I’m glad, Phryne,” because he was.

“Then get back under the covers and put your arms around me. I’m getting cold.”

“Yes, dear.”

They snuggled back under the covers and she draped herself over him, her head on his chest, one of her legs between his two.

Jack’s heart was beating a mile a minute. She was his. His and his alone. Well, as much as she could ever be anyones.

Phryne closed her eyes, smiling. It hadn’t been that hard in the end, telling him. Lying here with him she knew it was right. This is what had been missing. The warmth of the arms of the man she loved. His steady breathing and the solid beat of his heart. The sure knowledge that in the morning he would be here and it would still feel the same.

There was so much more to learn about him. About each other and what they could be together. After awhile her exhaustion overtook her and she fell into a contented sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite done with this one yet. One more chapter to get them home.


	12. Chapter 12

She was having a very pleasant dream. _His breathing was heavy, that velvet voice of his strained and pleading. Her hand was wrapped around him and she could feel his cock hardening against her palm, pulsing and twitching. She could drive him wild and she knew it. Her own body was coiling tight in anticipation._

_“Do you want me, Jack?” she whispered in his ear._

“Good God, Phryne!”

She was startled fully awake by his exclamation and realized, to her shock, that her hand was down his pants.

“You’ll kill a man waking him like that,” he rasped.

She pulled away from him. He opened his eyes, blinking in the morning light, turning to find out where she’d gone. The look on her face was one of embarrassment and shock.

“I’m sorry! I was half asleep!” she said, blushing furiously.

“Were you seducing me in your sleep?”

“I’m so sorry, Jack!” she repeated.

“Don’t be,” he said, his eyes darkening. “And for the love of all things, don’t stop now.”

He rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath him, grinding against her, his cock stiffening further. She let out a happy squeak of surprise. He brought his mouth down on her lips hard and needy, his tongue sliding along hers.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he panted. “I can’t get enough of you.”

His mouth sought her breast, sucking at the nipple, feeling it harden through the silk of her nightgown. She arched her back. Her body had already been humming from the dream and his urgent and forceful reaction to her touch sent her spinning higher. His hands fumbled down along her hips, searching for the hem of her gown and tugging it roughly up and over her head before returning his lips to her now bared breasts.

She speared her hands through his hair, her fingernails dug into his scalp and he groaned.

“Take your pants off, Jack!” she ordered. “I want you inside me.”

“Not yet,” he said. He pushed the covers out of the way and moved down her body, his hands and lips caressing every inch. He slid one hand under her thigh, lifting her leg from the bed and laying it over his shoulder. He slowly slid two fingers inside her, mesmerized as he pumped them in and out a few times before removing them and bringing his mouth down to take their place.

“Never enough,” he murmured, and proceeded to drive her to the edge in record time. Just before she went over, he pulled away. She jolted back from the brink, lifting her head from the pillow, ready to protest. He was standing at the foot of the bed, his chest heaving, his hair standing on end from the work of her hands, his pajama pants tented and straining from his erection.

He untied the cord at his waist and quickly pushed the thin cotton off his hips.

“Do you want me, Phryne?”

“Yes, Jack. I want you. I want you so much.”

She thought he’d pounce immediately, but he stood still, his fists clenching and unclenching as he sought to control his breathing. When he moved, he moved slowly. Prowling over her like a jungle cat, his powerful arms flexing. She slid her hands from his wrists to his shoulders, feeling the smooth flesh stretched over hard muscle and bone. Her hands moved erratically as she tried to touch him everywhere.

He was so beautiful. And he was hers. All hers. She’d never felt more desperate to have a man inside her. She raised her knees on either side of his hips, and reached down to take hold of him again. Stroking him softly, she guided him to her, gasping slightly as he pushed in, filling her.

He rested on top of her for a moment, lying still, then supporting his weight on his arms, he touched his forehead to hers, his eyes closed.

“I love you, Phryne.”

He began to move, slowly, deliberately. Trying to register every sensation. The warm, wet grasp of her around him, the soft skin of her thighs, the firm touch of her nipples brushing against his chest.

Her hands moved over his back and he could feel her nails scratching lightly, sending a spark through him. His paced increased and she encouraged him, whispering of how she loved him, how she needed him. _‘My Jack’_ , he heard her say, and he thought he might just lose his mind.

They found a rhythm, moving together as they each rode the wave to release. As it neared, he brought his hand between them, applying just enough pressure to send her over. She spasmed around him and her followed after her with a shout.

"Phryne,” he said, “That was—” he shifted, to move off of her but her hands gripped him tight, holding him in place.

“Don’t go,” she said. “Stay with me.”

He was still inside her, softening, but when she wrapped her legs around his thighs and rocked against him, an electrified shiver ripped through him

“Aren’t I heavy?” he asked, his brain a little fuzzy.

“You’re perfect.”

He let his head fall to rest on her pillow, tucked into the crook of her neck. She smelled fantastic. Faint traces of her perfume and her own personal scent mingled with his. The smell of clean sweat and sex filled the air around them.

He kissed her, a long, deep, sensuous kiss, then rolled to her side, slipping from her as she whimpered a quiet complaint.

They lay side by side, silently touching. Fingers tracing along collarbones, hands caressing without eyes ever losing contact. Phryne reached for Jack’s hand, linking her fingers through his.

“When we’re home, will you stay with me?”

“Where would I be going?” he asked, drawing her hand to his lips and pressing kisses to each of her knuckles in turn.

“I mean, will you stay over with me like this, at my home? Will you come to my bed there, in the real world?”

“I don’t think I could stay away.”

“And, in the morning? What then?”

“Well, I’m not planning to slink out in the middle of the night, unless you ask me to. So, I imagine I’ll get up and go to work, leaving you to sleep until whatever hour of the early afternoon you usually rise.”

“Just for that Jack, I’m going to make sure Dot enters my room with the breakfast tray while you’re still lying, preferably naked, in my bed.”

“I’m sure that’d be far more traumatizing for her than me, Miss Fisher,” he lied.

The thought of Dot Collins catching him in such a compromised position was horrifying. In fact just thought of her household, its size and her staff, was slightly intimidating.

“This is going to take some getting used to,” he admitted. “We’ll have to be discreet. I wouldn’t want to make Dot or Hugh uncomfortable.”

“Not to mention the need to avoid gossip at the station,” she said.

“I’m afraid that ship has sailed,” he said, “about the same time my did for London. I’m quite sure my sudden leave of absence firmly cemented whatever suspicions already existed regarding my feelings for you.”

“Does that bother you?”

“That my men can see you have me wrapped around your little finger? They’d be pretty lousy at their jobs if they hadn’t noticed.”

“Seriously, Jack!”

“It’s fine, Phryne. And speaking of my job, we’d better get moving if I’m to keep it.”

It had been a splendid morning so far and she hated to see it end, but she rolled reluctantly out of bed and headed into the bath, blowing a kiss over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her. That’s when she saw it and her heart stopped. The black clamshell case on the side of the sink. Phryne snatched it up and opened it. She already knew what she’d find, but desperately held on to a hope that lasted only long enough for her to see inside.

She leaned forward, bracing herself on the sink, taking deep breaths to slow her racing pulse.

It was just the one time. It would be fine. They’d been so very careful up to now. This one slip up wouldn’t mean anything in the end.

She wondered if she should tell him. Better not, she decided. She couldn’t possibly know yet if there’d be any consequences to this mistake. He’d blame himself and that wouldn’t be fair. He was always so good about checking with her, taking care of her. This wasn’t his fault. They’d been careless, and it couldn't happen again, but she was sure everything would be fine. She wouldn’t worry him unnecessarily.

* * *

 

_Around eighteen months later._

 

“Here, miss, let me take her from you,” Dot said.

“She’s getting so big, isn’t she?” Phryne said, bouncing the child a few more times before handing her over.

“Yes, miss. This one won’t stop! I think she’ll be walking any day now!”

“She is a handful,” Phryne smiled.

“I’ll just take her down to Mr. Butler and be right back up to help you dress.”

Dot nearly bumped into Jack in the doorway. He gave the baby’s head an affectionate pat as they passed.

“Can you help me with this?” he asked. “You’re better at it than me.”

Phryne took the tie from him and looped it around his neck. He was perfectly capable of doing this himself. She suspected he’d just wanted to check on her progress, which was admittedly behind schedule.

“I thought Dot’s sister was coming to watch the baby,” he said, lifting his chin to allow her better access.

“I’m sure she’s on her way. If she doesn’t show up, we’ll manage. Belle’s such a sweet child, hardly ever cries.”

“Of course you’d think that. As soon as she begins to fuss you hand her off and everyone makes sure she’s hustled far away before the wailing begins!”

“Well, that’s the beauty of being the honorary Auntie, Jack. I get to spoil her and enjoy her smiles and someone else deals with the unpleasant tasks.”

“Dot is a wonderful mother,” Jack said, “and Hugh has really grown into his role, don’t you think?”

“Yes. They’re well suited and seem very happy together.” She finished with his tie and ran her hands down the front of his black, silk waistcoat. “You look wonderful, Jack.”

“I still don’t see why we had to be so formal,” he complained.

“It’s a celebration, darling.” She turned away and sat back down at her vanity, “and one that I’d better get ready for, or I’ll keep everyone waiting.”

“Just one thing before they all get here,” he said. He came to stand behind her and pulled a long strand of pearls from his trouser pocket, watching her face in the mirror as he draped them around her neck.

“Oh, Jack! You shouldn’t have,” she exclaimed, reaching up to run her hand along them. They felt substantial against her breast and were warm from having been in his pocket. He bent and kissed her neck just below her ear.

“I thought they’d look lovely around your neck, and I was right,” he said.

“Do you want me to wear them tonight?” she asked.

“If you like. You needn’t. I just didn’t want you opening my gift among the others.”

“I will wear them. They’ll be perfect with my gown,” she said.

“You like them, then?”

“I love them,” she said, standing and wrapping her arms around his neck, “and I love you.”

“I certainly hope so!” He said.

“Kiss me now, before I do my makeup,” she said. Her arms tightened, pulling him closer as their lips met.

“Happy birthday, darling,” he said.

“Best one yet,” she replied.

Half an hour later she came down the stairs feeling beautiful in the deep burgundy silk gown. The addition of Jack’s pearls trailing over her décolletage was stunning. The parlor was full and buzzing with life. Everyone she cared about was there for the celebration, all in their finest, and she was touched that they’d made such an effort. Jack stood at his usual post in front of the mantel, a spot that had belonged to him from the beginning, long before he’d moved in.

He’d kept his own place for awhile, but now it was let to someone else. They’d weathered the gossip and the disdain of those that thought their relationship scandalous. She’d put up with the snide remarks of so called friends that were certain she’d tire of him at any moment. And, here they were. Still together and as strong as ever.

He turned as she entered. The entire room quieted, following his gaze. He lifted an eyebrow and she knew what he was asking. He needn’t have. She was as sure of this as she’d ever been of anything in her life.

She strode swiftly to his side. There’d be no fussy procession or pompous music this time. That wasn’t her style. The music would come after. And the champagne. Plenty of champagne, along with loads of Mr. Butler’s delightful cooking and a beautiful cake Dot spent the better part of the week making.

It was a quick ceremony. Just what was legally required. They’d said what they needed to say to each other in private. She did allow for one bit of tradition, because she knew it would please their guests, but even that was altered just a bit. After they’d placed the rings on each other fingers, the justice said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss one another.”

There was excited applause and a rather loud whoop she was quite sure came from Bert, or, on second thought, Mac. There were hugs and pats on the back. Then the music started and the champagne flowed for hours.

They were undressing for bed, when she said, “I should postpone my trip. My friends will understand.”

“No. It’s been planned for months and you’ve been looking forward to it.”

“But, we just got married!”

“On a date you set. I was happy to wait until you were back.”

“I wanted to marry on my birthday, and I wasn’t going to wait a full year!”

He hadn’t understood, at first, why she was suddenly so keen to marry, and why so quickly. He was convinced it was only her guilt at planning to be away so long on a trip he couldn’t accompany her on, but it had nothing to do with that.

They were already family, nothing would ever change that. But, just like she had the legal paperwork that made her Jane’s guardian in the eyes of the world, she wanted something that said the same of Jack. Not that she was his guardian of course, but something official that would tell the the world that they’d chosen one another. A record that would remain after they’d gone to link them together forever.

Once she’d come to this realization she knew immediately it had to take place on her birthday.

It was the day she most felt Janey’s presence. It was no longer so painful to think of her sister and it would be as close as she could come to having Janey with her as she publicly pledged to spend her life with the man she loved.

The trip hadn’t even come into it and now, she regretted how soon she was going to be parted from him.

“Phryne,” he said, “We have until after the new year and you need this trip. If you don’t go, you’ll regret it.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Well, there is this new woman running the pie cart outside the station,” he said.

“Jack, she’s at least 20 years your senior.”

“Her pies are delicious,” he said.

“I better not come home to find you’ve gained weight.”

“Would you rather I waste away in your absence?”

“But it’s over two months, Jack!” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning against his chest.

“I’ll meet your ship in Fremantle as planned and we’ll sail home together. You’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

“I already miss you.”

“Then, let’s make the most of what time we have,” he said, lifting her off her feet and carrying her over to the bed.

Later, as they lie in bed together, he asked if she was happy.

“Deliriously so, darling.”

“That’s good. Because you’re well and truly stuck with me now.”

“That’s as it should be. It was always going to be you, Jack. It had to be you.”

* * *

  
Epilogue

 

He stood at the dock and watched as her trunks were loaded onto the ship.

“Are you sure you’re only going for a couple of months? Should I be worried you’re taking a runner?”

“Never. I wish you were coming with me.”

“So do I.”

“Are you sure you can’t?”

“Quite sure. What would people say of my taking a second leave in as many years just to go chasing after some woman.”

“Not some woman, Jack. Your wife.”

“I do love how that sounds.”

“Yet, I had to talk you into it.”

“Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. I jumped at the chance. If only for the opportunity to do this in public.”

He slipped his hand though her hair, cradling her skull and pulling her into a passionate kiss. They pulled apart. She rested her hands on his chest.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” she said. “One of us always watching the other leave?”

“I’ll watch you leave as often as I have to, as long as you come back.”

The ship's horn sounded. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

“I’ll come back. And I’ll write. Take care of yourself, Inspector.”

He took hold of her hand and kissed the ring on her fourth finger.

“You too, and steer clear of any murders won’t you? For me, Miss Fisher?”

“I’ll do my best, Inspector,” she said, caressing his cheek. “Jack? Will you say it for me?”

He grinned. She wasn't using it publicly, but sometimes, in private, she liked it when he did. He leaned in close, speaking softly into her ear.

“I love you more than life itself. Come home to me, Mrs. Robinson.”

She smiled shyly and placed her hand flat over his heart, the simple gold band on her finger glinting in the bright sunlight.

“Always, my darling husband. Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the tease - I couldn't resist! I hope you like the ending.


End file.
